


daylight

by mrpascals



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bounty Hunters, Canon-Typical Violence, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Partners to Lovers, Pre-Canon, Sweet/Hot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrpascals/pseuds/mrpascals
Summary: Every love story has a beginning. For you, that story began when you were forced to partner up with a certain Mandalorian. Working with him is not easy, especially when you start to fall for the armored warrior. But, as time passes, you realize maybe this partnership was the best thing that ever happened to you.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 32
Kudos: 188





	1. Partners

**Author's Note:**

> it’s here!!!! i’ve put so much effort in this series you have no idea! this is part of the redamancy universe and it’s the story of how you and Din met and fell in love with each other. it’ll have a bunch of smut, angst, fluffy moments! i really hope you like it 🥺️ let me know what you think!!!! (also this series will contain a lot of soft/out of character Din, so if that’s not your thing, I’d advise you to not read it)

“Listen, I’m not happy about this either, okay?” You say, rolling your eyes. “But if you’re gonna keep nagging me about the way I fly my own ship, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Irritation is growing in your chest as the Mandalorian sits on the co-pilot’s seat of your ship. You didn’t want this either, but it is what it is. A large amount of money is at stake if you both catch this guy. It’s a fair deal, except you’re gonna have to work together. Something you’re not looking forward after he blatantly insulted you in front of your boss.

Back in Nevarro, you knew he was going to be a problem the moment he entered the room as you sat at the booth, facing him, leaning your head on a fist. To him, you looked bored out of your mind, not interested in the job at all.

“Think of it as a… _Partnership_ ,” Greef Karga had said, finishing a speech you didn’t pay attention.

“I don’t think I need a partnership,” the Mandalorian said, looking at you. “Especially with someone as disinterested as this one.”

Your eyes met the visor of his helmet and you let out a sigh, straightening yourself on the seat.

“Well,” You said, leaning your elbow on the back of the seat. “You heard the man. He doesn’t want it and neither do I. Can we go now?”

Euric, your boss, gave you a scolding look and called your name as a warning. “We only get the money if you both work together,” He said and then turned to the Mandalorian. “The guild’s been trying to get this guy for years, it makes sense to partner my best hunter with you.”

“Your _best_ hunter?” Mando chuckled. “What does she hunt? Womp rats?”

“Come again?” You straightened your posture again, anger bubbling in your chest.

“I said‒”

His sentence was interrupted as you reached forward and hooked a hand on the back of his neck, slamming the helmet on the surface of the table. The loud noise caught everyone’s attention in the cantina, as you pressed the barrel of your blaster on his exposed neck.

“Come again.” You dared him.

The Mandalorian acted quickly as he grabbed your wrist and twisted, pressing it against the table. A vibroblade is pointed at you as try not to grunt, feeling the pressure on your wrist increase.

“They’re going to kill each other,” Karga said, shaking his head.

Euric called your name as a warning again and you finally let go of the Mandalorian, looking at him in disbelief. He’s the one who insulted you, and you’re the one being scolded. Of course. A sigh left your lips as you fought the urge to rub your wrist in front of the Mandalorian, knowing he was watching you.

“Who’s the bounty?” Your voice is annoyed.

“Name’s Lognot,” Karga places a holopic on the table and a picture of a Gamorrean appeared, glowing blue. You almost scoffed.

“Why do we need a partnership to catch a Gamorrean?” You asked, not really understanding the meaning of the agreement.

“Because he’s unpredictable. Dangerous.” Your boss explained. “Been hiding for decades until we finally caught a sign of him in Elserrooi, a desert planet in the Outer Rim.”

“And the payment?” The Mandalorian asked, after a silent pause.

“The payment will be done once you collect him.” Karga sighed, reassuring him.

Needless to say, you both were forced into working together. You gave in eventually, thinking about the money you were going to receive. It’s not like you’d get a lot, considering you’d always get thirty percent of what Euric gets, a small profit for working for him. But it’s enough to put food on the table.

“After this, you won’t have to see me ever again,” You tell him as you enter the atmosphere of the planet. “Let’s just finish this job already.”

Mando doesn’t say a word as you land the ship. He didn’t want to come in your ship but you argued the Razor Crest would get too much attention. One look and people would talk and maybe the quarry would skip town if he heard about it. Your ship was unknown and no one would know you both were here, at least not from the ship.

“We don’t have to actually work together,” The Mandalorian says, when you’re leaving the ship. You stop in your tracks and look at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “We both have the fobs, let’s just split.”

“You know they forced us into working together for a reason, right?” You sigh. “This guy might be dangerous.”

He just stares at you.

“Maybe we’ll find out that we make a good team if we work together.” You argue. “What do we have to lose?”

The Mandalorian laughs, scoffs at you and you sense his mockery.

“I have a reputation to hold.”

Frowning, you tilt your head at him. “You care about what people say about you?”

“It’s not about what people say,” He explains, his voice going lower. “It’s about how they see you. It’s about _respect_.”

“Oh.” You nod and cross your arms. “So you care more about being seen than catching the bounty.”

“That’s not it.”

“It’s what you just said.”

He doesn’t respond and starts walking away. You roll your eyes and follow him, taking a device from your pocket.

“At least take this.” You shove the small device at his face and he takes it in his gloved hands. It looks like a fob tracker, but it’s smaller and there’s a single button in it, one that’s not blinking. “Just press this button if you’re in trouble.”

You take another device, one just like the one he’s holding and press the button. The small square he’s holding lights up and vibrates in his hand.

“It’s like a comlink, but silent,” You explain. “Just press the button and I’ll come to you.”

The Mandalorian nods and walks away from you. You sigh in defeat and start doing your job the best you can.

…

Turns out that Elserrooi really is a desert planet. The infinite horizon of dark sand and the cloudy atmosphere almost suffocates you as you walk around and discreetly ask questions about Lognot. You spend the entire afternoon looking for the guy, but he’s a ghost. No one’s seen him or heard of him. Well, obviously they’re lying, but you’re not gonna start threatening people around, especially with no backup, since you partner left you.

“Just water, please,” You say to the bartender as you sit on a stool of a very empty cantina. The woman gets you water and you drink it all in one gulp, sighing. You consider returning to your ship, assuming Mando must have caught the guy and is waiting for you. Closing your eyes, you let your head hang low, taking a deep breath.

Well, this partnership is not going well.

“Ma’am?” A soft voice calls you from behind the bar. You open your eyes to face the small woman, dressed with a worn out dress and a dirty apron. A worker. “You arrived here with a Mandalorian, right?”

Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you took a look at her. “Why?”

The woman, a skinny, short human, has a grey tone to her skin color, hollowed cheeks and bags under her eyes, the wrinkles on her eyes make her look tired; her long dark hair goes down to her lower back and it’s messy, like she hasn’t brushed it in a few days. She looks nervous, fidgeting with the rag in her hands, swallowing hard and looking around to make sure no one’s listening, even though the establishment is empty, save for you and a drunken man passed out at a table. When she speaks, her voice is a whisper that you have to listen carefully or else you won’t make up what she’s saying.

“They took him.”

You frown in confusion, suddenly feeling your heart speed up inside your chest. “What?”

“They took him,” She repeats and look around to make sure no one’s there.

“The Mandalorian?” The woman nods, swallowing hard once more as you try to make sense of everything. “Who took him?”

She swallows and shakes her head and you exhale impatiently. “What’s your name? Tell me.” You demand in a firm voice.

“P-Persei.” Her voice trembles and she looks away from you, now scared.

“Okay, Persei,” You call her name still in firm voice. “I need you to tell me who took the Mandalorian, because I can’t afford him getting killed here, do you understand?”

Persei shakes her head frantically and exhales a shaky breath, swallowing once more.

“M-My master,” She stutters. “Lognot is his name. I heard him plotting with other men as soon as word got out that a Mandalorian was in Elserrooi.”

You nod at the name of the bounty you’re looking for.

“Okay.” Your voice is softer now, you realize why she’s acting so scared of you. She’s a slave. Your frustration blinded you from the fact, and you didn’t realize why her appearance was so raggedy at first. So, you try to be softer, your heart clenching at every flinch she does. “Do you know where they went?”

“The f-field. The one he takes us to–” Persei lets out another shaky breath. “To punish us.”

“Where?” You demand.

Persei points in the direction of the back of the cantina and you immediately stand up to walk out it when a thought occurs to you.

“Am I gonna have to kill you after this?” You turn back to her as you ask. Her eyes wide and she clutches the dirty rag to her chest in fear.

“W-What?”

“If this is a setup,” You explain. “I will kill you, do you understand?”

Persei shakes her head and starts breathing hard, like she’s panicking.

“It’s not, I swear!” Her voice reaches an octave. “Please don’t kill me! I have three children!” Persei’s eyes flicker to behind you, before setting back at you.

Looking over your shoulder, you spot two children with rags and brooms on their hands further inside the establishment. Their attention now is on you, knowing their mother raised her voice as they were cleaning the tables and sweeping the floor. They don’t look a year older than ten and your heart sinks to your stomach at the thought of a slave family working for that disgusting Gamorrean.

“My youngest is no more than three years old, Ma’am,” She says as you look back at her. “I’m all they have, please.”

Clenching your jaw, you don’t say a word at you walk out of the cantina, in the direction she pointed. There’s a small hill a few meters away from the place and you swear you hear shouting from behind it. You power walk, your hand over your blaster, until you trip on something on the ground. It’s the Mandalorian’s ambar sniper rifle.

“Shit,” You mumble as you pick it up and run towards the top of the hill. What you see makes you gasp.

It’s a huge earthy field, situated in lower ground. The Mandalorian is cuffed to a pole, probably used for torture, as Lognot holds a shock stick to electrocute him. A few Gamorreans are watching and laughing, the horrible sounds echoing in the distance.

Your chest burns with rage as you watch Lognot touching the Mandalorian’s helmet, and trying to take it off. You pull your own blaster, aiming at him and taking a lucky shot. Unfortunately for Lognot, you have a perfect aim and the shot hits the Gamorrean’s hand, alerting the others that you’re there. He yells in pain, falling to the ground and you smile as you kneel down, watching as the other pigs search frantically for the source of the shot.

The rifle is heavier than what you’re used to, but you still manage to look through the scope to aim at one of them. You made sure the safety is off and the weapon is loaded before shooting at the first one. The weapon recoils a bit, pushing your shoulder back slightly as you pull the trigger.

“Woah,” You breathe as you watch the Gamorrean disappear in front of your eyes. Loading the weapon with another shell of Tibanna gas, you aim at a second pig and shoot. He vaporizes in a second and you let out a laugh as they start running desperately around in the field.

“Run, piggy, run!” Your voice echoes in the open field as you aim one more time and vaporizes another Gamorrean. By the time the last one realizes where you are, it’s too late. He tries to shoot at you, but misses completely as you waste the last shell of Tibanna gas on him. “Damn, I gotta get one of these.”

Strapping the rifle on your shoulders, you holst you blaster on your belt again and run towards the Mandalorian. Lognot is still on the ground, groaning and gripping his hand tightly. Well, the stump where his hand were before you shot him; his actual hand is just a few meters away, still gripping the shock stick. Despite wanting to immediately check on Mando, you walk to the Gamorrean instead and takes his blaster of his belt, kicking far away from him.

“You bitch!” He curses, his pig-like voice echoing in the field. “You’ll pay for this! I’ll kill you.”

Rolling your eyes, you take the shock stick from his decapitated hand and electrocute him. “Unfortunately, our client wants you alive.” You sigh in fake disappointment. “But _alive_ doesn’t mean _uninjured_ , right?”

Finally, you turn to the Mandalorian and uncuff him; his knees almost give in with the weight of his body and you steady him, with a palm on his chest plate. The modulator picks up a shaky breath as he tries to stand on his own. Taking a look at you, he pauses, lingering his stare for a moment. He expects you to say ‘I told you so’, or to make a snarky remark about how you were right and he was wrong, but what you say surprises him.

“You okay?” Your voice is soft for some reason.

Mando nods once. “Thank you.”

His voice is hoarse, tired and you fight the urge to make a snarky remark about it. 

“There’s more of them coming,” He says, his visor trained behind you.

When you look over your shoulder, you see five more Gamorreans running down the hill. You take a deep breath and unstrap the ambar rifle from your shoulders, giving it to its owner; you pull your blaster, watching as the Gamorreans split: two to the right, three to the left.

“I’ll take left.” You claim, getting behind a bolder stone and taking aim at them.

“You sure?” Mando asks, kneeling beside you, taking cover in the same stone.

“Yeah,” You breathe, closing one eye to aim at a pig’s knee, the one who wobbles behind the other two. You pull the trigger, hitting on his leg and making him fall and roll over the other two.

The scene is comical and you laugh as you watch them trip over each other and roll down the hill. The Mandalorian glances at you and shakes his head before loading his rifle and shooting at the others pigs. You mimic his actions and shoot the ones on the left, wasting no time. It’s easy and quick and you feel yourself smiling over the fact you’re working with him.

Your eyes are trained on him as he stands up and exhales a breath. Standing, you approach him wanting to ask if he’s okay one more time. Your mouth opens but he quickly put two hands over your shoulder, pushing you aside so harshly you fall to the ground. By the time you process what happened Lognot had already launched himself on the Mandalorian, falling on top of him. You try to think fast as you grab the shock stick again and press it hard against the thick skin of the Gamorrean, making the large body shake and then stop at all once.

When Lognot goes still, you use all your force to push him off of Mando, who’s lying on the ground, groaning in pain.

“Mando!” You exclaim, kneeling beside him. “Are you okay?!”

A groan cracks the modulator as he tries to stand. Only then, you notice a burn wound on his side, where the thick fabric of his sweatshirt has burnt off, most likely due to the electrocution from before. Through the hole, you can see a nasty burn wound that desperately needs care.

“Hey, you have–” You try to reach to touch him, but he grabs your wrist, gripping hard. You look at the visor of his helmet and exhale, pulling away from him harshly. Looking away, you stand up, sighing softly as he struggled to stand. When you speak, your tone is unkind, matching with your feelings on the inside. “Can you walk?”

“Yes,” He responds shortly.

“Good. You’re carrying him.”

You don’t wait for an answer and walk away without looking at him. The Mandalorian sighs and looks at the passed out Gamorrean.

When you reach the cantina again, you see Persei with her two kids at the back door of the establishment. She’s holding a younger child in her arm; they’re all so skinny and malnourished and your heart clenches again at the sight. Hesitantly, you look behind you to see the Mandalorian using his fibercord whip to drag Lognot along with him. He’s catching up to you, so you quickly walk towards the little family.

“It’s okay,” You tell her. “Lognot won’t hurt you anymore.”

“Is he dead?” She asks and you feel your stomach churn. “Are you going to kill him?”

“Unfortunately, no.” You look in her eyes. “The client wants him alive.”

Persei’s disappointed look breaks your heart.

“Persei,” You call her. “Do you have where to go?”

She looks at you with tears in her eyes and shakes her head. You sigh, not knowing what to tell her. You don’t know what the client will do with Lognot, you don’t know if he’s going to be killed or not. He could come back and hurt Persei and her kids. Or worse.

“Take this.” You pull your leather pouch with a handful of credits and hand it to her. She gasps and shakes her head.

“I can’t take it.”

“Just take it.” You insist and she shakes her head once more. “There’s enough for a ride out of this planet. It’s not safe here.”

When she doesn’t move you look at her two boys, the oldest hidden behind his mother’s skirts and you smile at him as you kneel in front of him. You take a credit from the pouch and show it to him, holding it between your thumb and your index finger. Palming the credit with your right hand you make it disappear from your left. The boy widens his eyes and you open your right hand to show him the credit gone from it too. He gasps and you see a ghost of a smile on his face. Reaching behind his ear, you pluck the credit from it and show it to him. He gasps once more and you smile, holding his little hand and placing the credit and the pouch in his palm, closing his fingers.

“Take care of your mom and your siblings, okay?” You tell him and he nods, smiling. When you look at Persei as you stand, there are tear stains on her bony cheeks.

“Thank you,” She whispers.

You just nod once and walk away.

…

“What you did for that family back there,” Mando says once you’re in your ship. Lognot is already caged, still unconscious, and you’re piloting the ship back to Nevarro. The Mandalorian is in the copilot’s seat, watching you from behind the mask he wears. “That was honorable.”

You scoff, looking at him for a second before turning your head back to the window pane. “You saw that?”

He nods, waiting for you to speak again.

“If my boss saw that, he’d lecture me about wasted money.” You try to joke, but deep down you know it’s true. Euric was a good boss, but when it comes to money, his fist is tight as a lee romay clam.

“Why do you work for him?” He asks, after a moment. “You’re good at this. Why don’t you work solo?”

A sigh leaves your lips once more and you shake your head, a ghost of a smile on your face.

“You know.” You shrug. “He took me in, trained me and now I’m a heartless bounty hunter. I can’t leave him.”

“Yes, you can.” His voice is firm.

A moment of silence follows as you refuse to look at him. Why is he being so nice all of a sudden? You thought he hated you. You remember just hours ago, when you tried to help him and he shut you off. Why is he talking softly to you when you walked away from him and let him to the hard work?

“And you’re not that heartless,” He continues.

Glancing at him, your smile is microscoping as you took in his words. “Alright, I have a soft spot for weak people, so what?” You scoff, shrugging once more. “That family reminded of myself when I was a little, that’s all.”

Mando himself doesn’t know what hits him when he speaks. “Was your mother a slave too?”

You bite your bottom lip, taking a deep breath. The subject was a little sensitive, it’s clear on your face and he regrets asking, but doesn’t apologize. After what it feels like a long time, you respond.

“No, she wasn’t. I–” You exhale softly. “I didn’t know her.”

“Oh.”

“My father raised me until he died in the war.”

A pregnant pause hangs in the air as Mando hesitates his next question. “Fighting for who?”

“What?”

“Your father died fighting for who?”

“Does it matter now?” You smile at him.

“I guess not.”

Sighing, you let go of the joystick in the console and lean back on the chair. He watches as you cross your legs and lace your fingers together on your lap. He thinks back at the moment Lognot and his men caught him by surprise and beat him over, dragging him to that field. He didn’t even get to use the device you gave him for emergencies. It’s humiliating to think he thought he was going to die by the hands of Gamorreans. Until you showed up, with your perfect aim and timing.

He clearly underestimated you, not realizing how great of a warrior you are. You saved his life and, suddenly, he looks at you differently. He feels differently about you.

“No one ever told me I had honor before.” You interrupt his thoughts and look back at him. “Thank you.”

The Mandalorian nods once at you and you smile back.

…

He doesn’t know when was the last time he saw you. Weeks, months maybe. Time is not important when you’re a bounty hunter that has no planet to call home. All he knows is that you didn’t leave his mind after that day in Elserrooi. He’ll be forever grateful for what you did to him.

Din doesn’t know what happened to him after that day, he doesn’t know why you had such effect on him. He keeps remembering the last thing you said to him, a snarky remark about getting a new helmet with the beskar that was paid to him that day. He can’t forget about you, he tried.

When he sees you again, in Yavin-4, you’re kneeling in front of a crying boy, doing coin tricks in front of him. The same you did with Persei’s son back then. The fair market is full of people, but he spots you like his eyes belong to you, amongst the people walking around and stopping in the tents. Your hair looks the same, just a bit longer and your clothes are new. He watches the curves of your body and grins under the helmet when his eyes spot at your ass. Then, he looks away as if someone could catch him staring. But his eyes are drawn back to you as the back of your head nods at the boy, reaching over to touch a hand on his shoulder, giving him the credit you were trying to distract him with.

You stand, the hand still on the boy’s shoulder as you search through the crowd. How you manage not to spot him, he doesn’t know. Bending over, you ask something to the child and he nods, clutching the credit to his chest, his face now tear stained. You start walking the boy, always taking to him as he fisted the fabric of your shirt, walking close, afraid he’d be lost again.

Din’s feet move faster than his brain can process and, when he sees, he’s following the both of you through the market. It doesn’t take long to a desperately crying woman run towards you and kneel in front of the boy, hugging him tightly. She thanks you, offering money but you refuse, smiling at her as she walks away with the boy. You wave goodbye at him and he smiles back at you.

He’s standing a few meters away from you when you turn on your heels and finally looks at him. You look surprised at first, but then look away, unable to hold the grin on your face. Of course you recognize him, despite the new helmet. Pressing your tongue on the inside your cheek, you walk to him, passing through the crowd of people as they pass by.

“New helmet?” You ask him, crossing your arms. You’re grinning at him, like you’re glad you’re seeing him again. Maybe you are. Din nods, holding his belt and shifting the weight of his body to his right foot. He stares at you for a moment, without saying anything as he takes you in again. You look almost the same as he remembers. “What? Couldn’t stay away?”

“Came here for supplies.” His deep modulated voice is like music to your ears. You nod and there’s a moment of silence before you speak again.

“I’m going to get a drink,” You tell him, shoving your hands on the pockets of your jacket.

“Okay,” He replies, nonchantaly.

“Join me.” The offer falls easily from your lips and it sounds more like a suggestion than a demand. Din just nods his helmet once and follows you as you walk towards the nearest cantina.

The establishment is not crowded, but the few people who are inside turn their heads to look at the Mandalorian who just happens to be walking behind you as you choose a table. He sits in front of you as you order ale to the waiter and shakes his head when asked about his order.

“So,” You speak when he doesn’t. “How’s work going?”

“Fine,” He answers. “Yours?”

“Ah, same old, same old.” You thank the waiter and take a sip from the ale. He nods and there’s a silence for a moment.

“Your father fought for the resistance, didn’t he?” Mando says as you play with your cup.

“How did you know?” You look up at him, smiling.

“Because you’re kind.” He tilts his helmet. “Too kind.”

Your smile fades a bit from your lips and you sigh, leaning back on the chair. Your voice suddenly turns hostile and you look away from him. “Is that a compliment?”

“Not for a bounty hunter, no.”

Your eyes burn back to him and your jaw tightens as you inhale deeply through your nose. There’s an anger that makes the place around you too hot and heavy to breathe. He knows damn well how good you are at your job, and he knows how you hate when you’re underestimated, the dent on his old helmet proves that.

“I take bad people out,” You say, leaning your arm on the table. “Sometimes I get to kill them. And I like it. Is that evil enough for you?”

Your tone makes him frown at himself underneath the helmet. It’s like you’re offended he said you were kind but… He was being honest. You are a kind person, but in the bounty hunter career that’s… different.

“I didn’t mean–”

“Of course you didn’t.” You interrupt him harshly as you lean back, your arm now resting on the back of the chair. Your eyes advert from him as you look back at the woman who came to thank you and you sigh, your voice softer when you speak again. “Being kind isn’t a sign of weakness, you know.”

“I never said that,” He explains himself. “It’s just unusual. A kind person working as a bounty hunter.”

“It’s what I’m good at.”

“It’s what you’re _great_ at.” Din leans his arm on the table. “I know damn well.”

Your eyes finally set on him again and you try to hold back a smile, failing miserably.

“Which is why I’m here.” He continues and you frown, confused.

“I thought you were here for supplies?”

“I changed my mind.” He ignores your question. “I don’t wanna work solo anymore. Not when you’re good at what you do and can help me catching bounties faster than I can alone.”

“You want me to work for you?” You ask, the frown still between your brows.

“No, I want you to work _with_ me.”

A silent pause hangs in the air as you absorb his words. It’s so uncharacteristic of him not to work solo, he’s the most famous bounty hunter and he’s known for being good on his own. The idea of joining him, of working with him scares you a bit, but in a good way. You could a learn a lot from him, you could improve your skills and make better money. Of course you’d have to leave your home planet and Euric and… Your grandmother.

“How much does Euric pays you?” He asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Thirty percent of that you earn?”

“ _Twenty._ ” You correct him. “He lowered my salary after he found out that I gave all my credits to Persei.”

“We’ll share the profit.” He suggests. “Fifty-fifty.”

Widening your eyes, you look at him in shock and surprise. Parting your lips with your tongue, you exhale softly.

“Come with me for a month.” He seems to sense your hesitation. “If you don’t like it, I’ll bring you back.”

Tearing your gaze away from him, you purse your lips together trying to suppress a grin. When you speak, your voice is hoarse and small, almost like you’re shy of him.

“Okay.”

…

“Nana,” Your voice is soft when you call her.

Your grandmother was the one who raised you after your father died. She used to sew clothes for people of the small town you lived, but it wasn’t enough for the both of you to survive, so you resorted to stealing to keep food on the table. After Euric caught you stealing, he took you in and trained to be one of his employees instead of just turning you in to the authorities. You’ve already said goodbye to him, claiming you got a better opportunity to work elsewhere. Now it’s time to say goodbye to her.

“Nana, it’s me,” You touch her hand to let her know you’re here. The old woman, the woman who helped shaping who you are today, opens her glassy pale eyes and try to look at the source of your voice. Time hasn’t been gentle with her and her sight was taken from her, gradually and painfully. She’s seen better days.

“Oh, my little star.” She smiles, taking your hands as she tries to move to a sitting position on the bed. “You’re still here?”

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you help her get comfortable, adjusting the cushions on her back. Once you’ve come of age, Nana always insisted you’d leave Yavin-4. Travel, meet new people, new places, make new memories, she would say. You’d always go against her wishes, claiming you had to take care of her.

“Nana, I met a man.” Your voice is a whisper and you watch as her smile grows. “He’s a Mandalorian.”

“Mandalorians make great warriors,” She says, nodding and then winks at you. “And lovers.”

You laugh, your shoulder shaking as you blush, thanking the Maker she can’t see the pink shade on your cheeks. But, somehow, you know she knows.

“Nana!” You scold her, still smiling. “That’s not it!”

She laugh softly. “What is it, then, my little star?”

A lump grows in your throat and you hesitate.

“Is he going to take you away?” She asks when you don’t respond.

“He offered. For work.” You swallow the lump on your throat growing bigger. “He’s a traveller, he said we’re going to share profits.”

Nana nods. For some time, you’ve hid what you did for a living from her, not wanting to distress or disappoint her, but, of course, Nana knows everything. She’d never interfered or made it a big deal of it, because she knows you by heart, she knows you’re not a bad person.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She asks. “What are you still doing here talking with an old woman like me?”

You don’t smile this time and finally let the tears spill from your eyes. When you speak, your voice is choked and cracked.

“I am afraid of leaving you, Nana.”

She just smiles and shakes her head, laughing softly as she calls your name like a soft lullaby.

“How many times have I told you to leave this Maker-forsaken moon?” She says, putting a hand on your cheeks, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“But–” You sob. “What about you?”

Nana scoffs, shaking her head and waves a hand at you. “I told you not to worry about me.”

Exhaling softly, you nod at her, taking her hands in your delicately.

“I’ll come to visit you,” You say, softly. “I promise.”

“Forget about me, little star.” Her voice reminds you of those time where you were a child and did something wrong and she’d scold you firmly. “Go live your life.”

A pause hangs in the air as you swallowed the lump in your throat once more.

“He’s waiting for me.” You choke. “I have to go.”

“Then, go.” She lets go of your hands as your stand from the chair. You walk to the door of the room and look back at her.

“I love you, Nana,” You tell her, the tears already in your eyes again.

“I love you too.” She smiles widely at you.

Leaving the room, you walk through well lit hallways until you reach the reception of the nursing home.

The Mandalorian is waiting for you in the hangar of the town, by his ship. You’re glad the walk from the nursing home to him dried your tears off, but if he notices you were crying before, he doesn’t mention it.

“Ready?” He asks, nodding to the small bag strapped on your shoulders. You give him a nod and follows him inside the ship.

As you enter the small space of the hull, you sigh, noticing for the first time that you’re a little nervous. The view from your hometown disappears slowly as the Mandalorian closes the Razor Crest’s ramp. There, in the cold air of the insides of the ship, you exhale softly as you look around. It’s smaller than your older ship, way smaller. Your eyes run through the place as you spot a refresher next to a bunker that looks a little too cramped and claustrophobic to you. You wonder if that’s where he sleeps or where you’re going to. Either way, it looks very uncomfortable and you don’t like it.

He calls you to the cockpit, nodding towards the ladder; when you follow after him, climbing the ladder and going through the door of the cockpit, he gestures to a seat in the copilot’s chair. As you sit down, you start to wonder if you’ve made the right decision by leaving with him. You don’t actually know him, you’ve worked with the Mandalorian once. What if he tries to kill you in your sleep? What if tries to hurt you, what if he leaves you on a planet you don’t know?

One month, he said. And then he’d bring you back. If you wished.

“You ready?” He looks over his shoulder at you, from the pilot’s chair. A breath escapes your lips.

“Yeah.”


	2. betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone from your past pays you a visit. Things go south, but the Mandalorian is always there for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not gonna lie, i haven’t been able to write a lot lately, hence why it took me a while to post this chapter. i always try to be two or three chapters ahead when posting, but, for some reason, i’m having trouble to write chapter three lmao but anyway! let me know what you think?? fluff and smut are coming, don’t worry!

So, your little secret came out. You couldn’t hide it any longer from the Mandalorian, after all, he could see when you were lying. Also, he just caught you sleeping on the floor of the ship’s hull. No wonder you’ve been complaining about the pain on your neck and shoulders. You’ve been sleeping on the floor pretty much since the first night you started working with him. It’s not like you didn’t _try_ to sleep on the bunker. You did, you really did. But the mattress was thin and stiff, plus it was too cold and dark and cramped. **  
**

“Do you not like the bunker?” He asks as you embarrassingly gather the blankets from the floor and place them on the bunker.

“No!” You quickly answered, feeling your neck burning up. “I– It’s– It’s just–”

Okay, you hated the bunker. It felt claustrophobic and the feeling of being inside four very close walls made your breathing hard and you’re sure as hell you’d never sleep in that horror box again.

“It’s–” You shake your head, seeking the right words. You don’t want him to think you’re ungrateful, after all, he let you sleep in his ship every night. “It’s just really– Uncomfortable.”

The Mandalorian pauses for a moment and tilts his helmet. “And how is the floor more comfortable?”

Exhaling softly, you shake your head. “It’s not.” You confess. “I, uh– I don’t like–” You hesitate, afraid of what he’ll think of you. “I don’t like… Cramped spaces.”

“You mean you’re claustrophobic?”

“No!” You exclaim, grimacing at the way your voice goes high. You pause, looking at him a for moment. And then you confess. “Y-yes.”

He stares at you for a moment and you think he’s going to laugh at you or mock you, but he doesn’t. He just just nods slowly, the silence stretching and you start to feel uncomfortable under his gaze. It’s been only a few moons since you started living together under the same roof, but you know him enough to notice when he’s deep in thought; you practically can see the engines spinning in his head. But what he says surprises you.

“We should get you a cot, then.”

… **  
**

Usually, when you both go to Nevarro, it’s to collect tracking fobs or deliver a bounty. The Mandalorian often says he has some _errands_ to do and disappears for a couple of hours and you kill time either in the cantina, or in the ship, waiting for him. It never crossed your mind to visit the outside market. It’s full of people, selling all sorts of stuff: clothes, food, all sort of handcraft stuff, fabrics and much more.

“You’re sure they have it here?” You ask The Mandalorian, walking through the market. There’s a lot of people out, but the ones that stand in your way, quickly step off when they see him with you.

“Yeah,” He answers. “Why don’t you take a look? I’ll, uh– I’ll be right with you.”

“Okay,” You sigh. “Go do whatever you do. I’ll be fine.” You put a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, if I didn’t know any better–”

When you turn around to face him, he’s already gone. Disappeared into the crowd without a warning or a farewell. You sigh again, shaking your head and heading into the market. Immediately, the sound of the chattering and different voice reaches your ears as your nostrils are filled with different scents of the different foods being prepared out in the open. You take your time, walking through them, looking at different items, but saving your credits for a cot.

You’re looking at a particular piece of fabric, feeling the texture between your fingers and wondering if you should buy it to make you a cloak - you never know when you’re going to have to hunt a bounty in an icy planet - when you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Euric smiles at you, putting his hands on his hips. A smile spreads your features and you shake your head.

The last time you saw him was a month agor, in Yavin 4, when you dropped the bomb that you were leaving his services to work with Mando. He took it well, apparently. At the time, he looked just surprised and confused, and you didn’t let him protest as you told him he could keep your ship as a thank you gift. After all, this is the man who took you in, who trained you, who shaped you into one of the best bounty hunters the guild has ever seen.

You should have felt guilty for leaving him, but you actually didn’t. While Euric was nice enough to give you a job at a difficult time, he’s not exactly the type of man you want to be around. He’s not nice, he’s not kind. And he definitely doesn’t need to be here, in Nevarro. You know this because the only time you’ve been to Nevarro while working for him, was when you had to work with the Mandalorian.

“Euric.” Your voice is surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, the sound of his Cybernetic arm reaching your ears. “I was around this part of galaxy. Decided to pay this dump planet a visit.”

A laugh escapes you. You know he’s lying but you don’t say anything. It’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, so you keep it quiet.

“So, how’s it going?” He tries to make conversation when you look again at the fabric in your hands without saying a word. “The job, I mean.”

“It’s good.” You let go of the material and start walking through the market, with Euric beside you. “I’ve been catching more bounties than ever.”

He nods, putting his hands behind his back. “So I heard.”

“How’s Yavin 4 without me?” You tease, giving him a smug smirk. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“A mess, of course.” 

The silence that falls is okay. It’s not totally uncomfortable, but it’s not good either. You have a feeling down the pit of your stomach that something’s wrong, but you can’t quite pinpoint it.

“And how’s he treating ya?” He asks, suddenly.

“Well, we haven’t killed each other.” Shrugging, there’s a small smile on your face, one you can’t hold back.

“Yet.” He laughs.

Fighting an urge to roll your eyes, you grow protective of the Mandalorian. As if by working with him you’d have to give Euric an explanation, tell him he’s not like that, but you just drop the subject with a shrug of your shoulders.

“I remember you slamming his helmet on the table like you were playing with a child!” He exclaims.

A laugh escapes your lips. That feels like it happened years ago.

“He did insult me, so–” You smile at him.

A silent pause hangs in the air as you look around for that comfortable cot you’ve been looking since you got here. The sun is already setting and you can feel the cold wind slipping through your jacket and touching your skin. **  
**

“Hey, are you hungry?” Euric asks all of a sudden. You pause and look at him and realize you actually _are_ hungry and you’re dying for some real food. While you enjoying living in the Razor Crest, there’s no space for cooking and all you eat are portions of dried food and dried nutrition bars. “I know a place we can have some good food.”

“Okay,” You comply, following him as he turns into a corner. “Since when you know things here in Nevarro?” You laugh as he comes to a stop, nearby an alley and gestures for you to enter. Growing suspicious, you frown at him, but he’s still smiling, so you enter the alley to see–

“Euric–” You call his name before turning to look at him. He grabs your shoulder and pushes you against a wall, harshly enough to knock the air out of you. The back of your head hits the wall and you get a little disoriented, feeling the pain radiate through your entire head.

“You were my best hunter, you know” Euric says, shaking his head. The hand on your shoulder tightens its grip and only then you notice something’s wrong. And you feel the blow on your head before you realize what’s going on.

Meeting the ground, your feel dirt in your mouth and a throbbing pain on your temple. When you look up, he’s standing right in front of you with a knife in his cybernetic hand. Quickly, you reach for your blaster, but Euric steps on your hand as you draw the weapon. You grunt in pain, feeling the weight of his boot on your hand until you open it; he kicks your blaster away and nudges your shoulder with the tip of his boot, making you roll on your back. The blow on your head was too strong and you start seeing double as Euric crouches beside you. You glance at the people in the market, from where they can’t see you but, probably, wouldn’t help you if you yelled.

At first, you don’t feel anything. Just a pressure on your low stomach.

“This,” He says as he withdraws the knife from your stomach. “Is for leaving me in Yavin 4. ”

Then, you feel a hot pain. It’s like fire burning your insides and it comes in a wave. You gasp at the sensation immediately reaching for the bloody wound. The substance is warm and it’s already everywhere. On your hands, on your clothes, on the earthy ground beneath you.

“It’s a shame.” He gently brushes your hair away from your forehead. “You’d learn a lot from the Mandalorian. But you have to remember that _I_ created you. You belonged _to me_. And if I can’t have you–” He looks into your eyes. “No one can.”

You want to scream, spit on his face, kick him in the balls, _kill_ him. But you can’t move. The shock deprives you of doing anything.

“I’d shoot you dead,” Euric says as he stands up. “But it’d be too fast. I want you to die like you deserve. In an alley, bleeding to death, with no one here for you.” **  
**

You try to speak, but the pain is too much. So, all you can do is watch as he walks again, leaving you to die. Maker, it hurts. You’d almost forgotten the feeling. Of course, you’ve been stabbed before, your job is far too dangerous for that not to happen. But it was never like this. Never by someone you didn’t expect. You can _feel_ the blood escaping you and your head getting lighter and lighter.

It takes everything in you to raise your arms from the wound and press the button on your comlink on your wrist device.

“M-Mando?” You whimper pathetically, grunting when a wave of pain hits you. “Fuck–” You hear nothing in response. “Hey–” You swallow thickly, dizziness taking over you. More silence. Maker, why can’t he just answer?

After what you feel like hours, his raspy voice comes through the comlink. “Yeah?”

“I, uh–” You exhale sharply. “Euric–” You feel like throwing up. “Knife– Stabbed–” Finally, the tears escape from your eyes. “Help.”

“Where are you?” His voice comes through after a moment in silence.

“T-The market.” You breathe. “He– _Fuck_ , this hurts–”

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

The sky is cloudy, you notice, looking up between the buildings of the alley. Your bloody hands return to the wound on your stomach and you feel the sharp wave of pain again; you groan on your own, wondering if this is how you die. Here, alone. On the dirty, covered in blood. With heavy eyes, you sigh. Maybe if you close your eyes, just for a while you’d be okay. Right? You’re so tired and the pain is so unbearable. You just want to rest. Just a little bit.

A gentle movement makes you shoot your eyes open. Something is wrong. The first thing you notice is that the sun is gone. The sky is dark now, the clouds are gone. Where did the sun go? You closed your eyes just seconds ago…

The second thing you notice is that you’re not on the ground anymore. You’re being carried by someone. Someone with a really hard chest that makes uncomfortable for you to lean on. Wetting your lips, you try to breathe but a fiery pain stops you.

Oh, right.

“Can you hear me?” A soft, raspy voice reaches your ears. The Mandalorian looks down at you for a moment, before training his visor forwards again. You grunt, trying to move in his arms. Everything hurts, your head, your stomach and you try to tell him it’s fine, you can walk on your own, but nothing comes out of your mouth, so you whimper. You can’t even move your lips. “We’re almost there.” You can’t tell if he’s running or not. “Stay with me, _Meshl’a_.”

After this, you close your eyes for a second again but a hand gently taps your cheek. You’re lying on something soft now and different voices echo in your ears.

“It took me too long to find her.” It’s the Mandalorian, you know it. You recognize the voice filtered by the vocoder.

“If you had found her a moment later–” A different voice this time, you don’t recognize it, but it’s filtered the same way the Mandalorian’s is. Everything echoes and the voices overlays on one another, so you can only make up a few words.

“Losing blood–”

“Bacta–”

_“Meshl’a.”_

Someone shouts something in another language and then he calls your name. You hum in response, trying to turn your head at his direction. Gloved fingers brush your face gently and you feel a warm sensation in your arm, the pain long forgotten. You tell him to stay, or at least you think you tell him.

Then, you hear Nana’s voice, calling you. She’s telling not to wonder too far.

“Nana?” You ask, opening your eyes.

All you see is darkness. It’s dark and cold and the stone floor is cold under your bare feet. Swallowing, you try to take a step but someone holds you back.

“You need to stay here.” It's your father's voice. You almost don’t recognize him as your turn around and see him, his face already a lost memory in your mind. The orange suit is a contrast to the darkness around you. How long has it been? Ten years? A hand, your hand, tries to reach for him but he laughs softly, looking at you with spark in his eyes. “Don’t cry, little one. I’ll be back to you before you know it. I promise you. I love you.”

“I…” You try to speak, but he disappears into thin air as your voice echoes in the dark. You remember now. This is the last memory you have of him. It was the last time you saw him. He said he’d be back, but he never did. Later, you found out he died in combat and was honored by the rebels, just like the other pilots that died for the rebellion.

You were just an angsty teenager at the time and the death of your father turned you into something else. With no financial support, your grandmother started sewing and fabricating clothes, and you’ve learned a thing or two about it. But it wasn’t enough. Not for the both of you. So you turned into a thief. Pickpocketing people in the city, selling the items for credits, doing anything it took to put food on the table. Until, one day, you picked the wrong pocket–

“Hey.” The Mandalorian voice is raspy and low, like a whisper and it snaps you out of your memories. _“Cyar’ika.”_

He’s behind you as you turn, sighing in relief. You don’t like the darkness and you don’t like being alone.

“Mando…” You mumble, reaching out for him.

“I need you to tell me.” He’s closer than you thought he was and when he raises his hand, you feel his bare fingers touch your skin. “Who did this to you?”

“What?” You frown, confused.

“Who hurt you, _cyar’ika_?” His voice is soft, so soft. You’ve never heard him speak like this before and, for some reason, you feel something burning inside you. Not like the unbearable hot pain you’ve felt before, but a pleasant warmth in your stomach. “Who stabbed you?”

“Euric,” You answer as you close your eyes, leaning on his touch. His hand moves to your forehead, the warmth of his skin soothes you for a moment. And then he speaks, voice mechanic and louder, and it’s like he switched back to his normal self.

“She’s burning up.”

Opening your eyes, you look at him again. He has his visor trained on you, but it doesn’t seem like he’s _talking_ to you.

“I’m out of bacta.” Another voice echoes in the darkness. “She’s got an infection and I’ve been trying to–”

“I have some shots in the ship,” Mando interrupts the voice. “Would it help–”

“Yes. She would heal way faster.”

“Mando?” You call him, confused. “Who are you talking to?”

A silence pause hangs in the air and he drops his hand from you. “I’ll be right back.”

The Mandalorian disappears just like your father did and you’re left in the darkness again. On your own. Breathing heavily, you hug yourself, trying to calm down. You’re dying, you’re sure of it. It’s the only explanation to all this.

“Mandalorians make great warriors.” Your grandmother’s voice echo in the dark. “And lovers too.”

“Nana?!” You shout, looking for her, but all you see is darkness. “Nana, where are you?”

“And lovers too.”

Then everything goes black.

… **  
**

The soft light of the lantern hurts your eyes a little as you try to open them. Your mouth feels dry, like there’s cotton inside, and your throat too. Trying to swallow, you part your lips with your tongue and look around you. You’re in a dark room, laying down on a comfortable bed, covered with furs and blankets. The room isn’t too big, but it isn’t small either. You try to remember your dream, but you can’t, for some reason.

A tall figure is beside you, standing with their back facing you as they organize some medical supplies on a small desk. The figure is wearing armor and a helmet, so you assume it’s Mando and call for him. The helmet turns to face and it is indeed a Mandalorian who stares back at you.

But it’s not _your_ Mandalorian.

“Water.” You manage to croak.

The Mandalorian figure walks to you and reach for the small nightstand beside the bed. They give you a canteen of water and you make a huge effort to lean on your elbow and take the canteen from them. The wound doesn’t hurt anymore, but it’s uncomfortable, you feel your skin tight just above your navel. You can feel the bandage on your skin, you don’t need to look at it to know it’s there.

After emptying the canteen, you look back at the unknown Mandalorian and exhale softly.

“Where’s–” You start but you don’t know how to finish. How do you tell Mandalorians apart? “Where’s– Mando?” A pause. And then. “ _My_ Mando?”

The possessive pronoun rolls of your tongue naturally and it surprises you as you say it. You’d never thought you’d have to occur to such term, but there’s no other way to distinguish him. He didn’t tell you his name yet, you’re sure he’d be fine with it. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

The possessive adjective rolls of your tongue naturally and it surprises you as you say it. You’d never thought you’d have to occur to such term, but there’s no other way to distinguish him. He didn’t tell you his name yet, you’re sure he’d be fine with it. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. **  
**

“He went out,” The female Mandalorian speaks, and you’re surprised as you realize it’s a woman. Her voice is filtered by the vocoder, just like his. You’ve never seen a female Mandalorian before and, for some reason, you like it. “A week ago.”

Frowning deeply, you blink twice as you ask. “How long have I been–” You hesitate, but, gladly, she answers your unspoken question.

“Almost three weeks.”

Exhaling sharply, you wide your eyes and fall back on the bed again. Three weeks you have been out, three weeks stuck on that dream, that darkness, hearing those voices inside your head. It surely didn’t feel like three weeks. It felt like you’ve slept for twenty minutes only.

“You had a bad infection.” She explains, turning her back to you one more time as she takes a glass syringe in her hands. “I ran out of bacta shots to treat you, so I used an E-bacta shot.”

That explains the weird dream. And sleeping for three weeks.

“Fortunately, the knife didn’t puncture anything important.” She turns to you with the syringe in her hand, the barrel of it full with a clear liquid. “Can you sit?”

Leaning on your elbows again, you move with a certain difficulty as you sit up, your hand flying to your stomach, where the healing wound is. The female Mandalorian approaches you and you feel just a prick on your arm and then a pressure; looking down you see she’s pressing a small cotton ball on your arm.

“What is this?” You ask, holding the cotton against your skin.

“A bacta shot.”

“I thought you said you ran out of it?”

She turns her helmet towards you and pauses for a second. “He went out and got some for you.”

A beat of silence.

“Oh.” Is all you can say.

“I think he really cares for you.”

You shoot a look at her back as she cleans her workspace. A scoff left your lips and you shook your head, leaning against the metal bars of the headboard of the bed.

“We’re just partners,” You say. “Business partners.”

The female Mandalorian nods, as if saying _whatever you say._ “He was beside the bed for days, monitoring you. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

At the statement, your heart speeds up. He was monitoring you while you were out. He watched you sleep for days. But why? Wasn’t this a strictly professional relationship?

“Anyway, I had to give you a couple of stitches,” She says when you don’t speak. “They’re almost healed now and I think you might be able to walk already.”

You watch as she picks up the metal tray, containing a few medical supplies and walk around the bed, heading to the door.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” You ask quickly, not wanting her to leave. You still had so many questions.

“He didn’t tell us where he was going.” She doesn’t stop walking as she answers.

“Wait!” You call her when she reaches the door. “Where am I?”

The female Mandalorian pauses and glances at you.

“In the Mandalorian covert.”

… **  
**

It takes a full day for him to return. Well, a full day after you woke up, at least.

You were pacing the room, trying not to think about the fact that it has no windows, when he entered. The sharp hiss of the door startled you and you brought a hand to your wound, the other going to the side of your leg, reaching for the nonexisting blaster on instinct. When you see him, a ghost of a smile grows on your face and your heart speeds again. When he sees you, he straightens his posture and flexes his hands. You can tell he’s holding back from doing something.

“You’re alive.” It’s an affirmation, not a question. His voice is low and raspy and it sends chills to your skin.

“Did you not want me to be?” You tease, offering him a half grin. A soft laugh goes through the vocoder.

“You’re _alive_.”There’s a hint of a smile in his voice as he looks away from you, fixing his visor to the ground.

“I am.” Your voice trembles for some reason. “Thanks to you.”

The Mandalorian looks up at you once more and nods once. “Can you walk?”

You shrug. “If I have to.”

He pauses then, considering his next words. “I found him.”

The smiles disappears from your face. For some reason, you know what he’s talking about, but, still, you ask,

“Who?”

“Euric.”

Clenching your jaw, you take a deep breath, feeling the anger bubble in your chest. “Did you kill him?”

“No.”

You tilt your head in anger, feeling the heat creep to your neck. When you open your mouth to say something, he speaks before you, taking you by surprise.

“I brought him for you.”

A silent pause. And then,

“Take me to him.”

The halls of the covert are cold as you walk beside the Mandalorian through them. He walks fast, almost not giving you time to keep up, your hand still on your stomach, covering the wound. You notice a few Mandalorians staring at both of you and wonder if– If _your_ Mandalorian is someone that has a kind of power down here.

You both reach a room where a small crowd is gathered. Some Mandalorians are surrounding something– No, someone. Your breath gets caught on your throat as you enter the room and feel all eyes on you.

_“Ba'slanar,”_ Your Mandalorian says calmly and everyone in the room starts leaving slowly. You blush and turn your gaze to the floor as they walks past you, until one specific Mandalorian stops in front of you. It’s the one who took care of you. She looks at you for a second, and then looks back at him and nods, leaving the room.

Now, it’s you and him.

And Euric, who’s kneeling on the floor, cybernectic arm gone, the other cleary broken on his side. Body bloodied and bruised and hurt, a black hood covering his head.

The Mandalorian is by your side the entire time. He walks with you until you stand in front of the man who tried to kill you. You wonder what are you going to say, what is he going to say. What will be his excuse, what will be your final words to him. You feel the anger rising, the heat slowly creeping on your neck.

“He’s yours to decide what to do with,” The Mandalorian speaks, pulling you out of your thoughts. Then, he pulls the hood from him and the words die on your mouth.

Euric is beaten, bloodied and gagged. It takes a second for him to adapt his vision to the light and recognize you. When he does, he widen his eyes and try to speak.

It’s just a second. In a second you think about how he was the one who took you in when you most needed it. How he helped you, trained you, made you into one of the best bounty hunter the galaxy’s ever seen. You think about how he never tried to touch you inappropriately, how he always respected you. How he’d help you if you were wounded, how he’d take care of you, when you were young. You think about how he betrayed you when you flew from the nest. You think about the pain, the unbearable pain he put you through. The hot, fiery blood escaping you as you tried to breathe. You think about his last words to you. How he left you in the dirty to die alone.

And then you reach for the blaster on the Mandalorian’s holst and before the warrior could react, you shoot Euric right in the head. His body falls to the floor with a thud and you look at it for a moment, not a word leaving your mouth. You could have tortured him, done the same thing he did to you, but you wouldn’t stoop that low. When it comes to killing, you’re very practical.

Turning around, you give the blaster back to the Mandalorian and walk out of the room. He stays for a while, before following you, every visor in the hallways trained at you both.

…

“You sure you’ve done this before?” You ask, sitting on the brand new cot _he_ bought you.

When you returned to the Razor Crest, you couldn’t contain your surprise when you saw it. It was set up, leaned on the wall of the ship, with a thick blanket and a soft pillow on it. You thanked him a million times for it.

Now, you’re sitting on it, watching as the Mandalorian removes his gloves and spill rubbing alcohol on his hands, leaving them as clean as possible. The female Mandalorian - you’ve never learned her name - told you you should remove the stitches in a few days, since the wound healed quickly, thanks to the bacta. Mando offered to do it, since he claimed he’s done it before.

“Yes,” He answers your question, gathering the material he needs and approaching you. “Lie down.”

Complying, you feel a heat creeping on your cheeks and you have to look away, pressing your lips together as he kneels by your side. He’s close now, closer than he’s ever been as he carefully lifts your shirt and slowly removes the adhesive bandage from your skin. You watch him as he puts the discarded supply aside, taking a look at your wound. You fight the urge to tease him, to ask him if he can even see with the helmet on. But you keep quiet as he cleans the wound with rubbing alcohol and you shiver at the cold feeling.

Then, he lays his palm flat on your stomach and you feel the warmth of his hand on your skin. It sends shivers down your spine, makes the hair of your arms raise, makes you feel butterflies on your stomach. He’s never touched you like this. Well, he’s never touched you. Period.

Sucking in a breath, you feel his thumb run gently across the stitches. And then, he starts pulling at each knot with the tweezers, slipping the small scissors into the loops and snipping the stitches. You watch him in silence as he removes every single one, the hum of the ship suspended in space is the only sound that echoes in the hull. **  
**

When he’s done, he cleans the wound again and places a bacta patch on your skin, covering the wound to make it heal faster. You might be going crazy with the touches, but you swear you feel his touch linger for a moment before he stands. Moving to a sitting position, you sigh, tucking your shirt back in your trousers.

“Did it hurt?” He asks, gathering the materials to put them away. You shake your head, biting your lower lip. He nods at you and turns around, but you quickly catch his wrist, pulling him closer again. Mando looks back at you, tilting his helmet in confusion.

“Thank you,” You say, holding his hand. “For saving my life.”

You don’t know why it took you too long to thank him. It’s been weeks since you almost bled to death in that alley, and you’re thanking him only now. But at least you’re doing it.

The Mandalorian nods at you. “Call it even.”

Smiling, you let go of him, watching as he puts the medkit away and throws the dirty bandages in the trash. Then, he climbs the ladder to the cockpit, heading to sit on the pilot’s chair. Sighing, he flexes his hand, the one you just held. He looks at it and gently touches his skin where your own hand had touched. His heart speeds up at the memory of your skin under his as he removed your stitches and took care of you. Then, he groans and puts his leather gloves on.

“Shit.”

_

_Ba'slanar:_ leave

_Cyar’ika:_ sweetheart, darling

_Meshl’a:_ beautiful


	3. riye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorian catches you in a vulnerable position and, not even half an hour later, you accidentally do the same to him. So you decide to do him a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i decided to just delete chapter three LMAO. i just hated it so much and i didn’t want to post something i didn’t like just to cringe everytime i remember. so, i thought y’all deserved something spicy. from now on, pretty much every chapter will have either a smutty part or a soft part. sometimes even both, who knows?? anyway, please tell me what you think, i am begging you. warnings: explicit nsfw content (a beej and also fingering -fem receiving - with gloves off, thankfully) +18, praising kink (yea i said it), if you don’t like this kinda stuff, i suggest you don’t read it!!

Din has to fix that damn door. The refresher door that’s busted doesn’t slide closed all the way. It’s been like that for years and he never had a problem with it, he never thought about fixing it. Until you started working with him. **  
**

He didn’t mean to look, he really didn’t. It was the timing. He thought you were out of the shower already and went down to the hull of the ship while you were… Not ready. He didn’t expect to find you naked, body wet and hair soaked, plucking your eyebrows at the small mirror in the refresher. You don’t even notice him at first, but when a shadowy figure appears in your peripheral vision, you let out a yelp and reach to grab the closest thing to cover yourself, but when you look again, he was gone, like he never was there.

The blush is still on your cheeks as you dress up and try as best to dry your hair with the damp towel; your heart is beating like crazy and you can’t stop yourself from letting a nervous laugh out of your throat. Dammit, how are you going to look at him now? Now that he saw you…

Well, you _would_ be lying if you said you didn’t want him to see you naked. It’s been months since you started traveling with him, forming a partnership in bounty hunting you’d never saw it coming. But ever since that day in Nevarro… You’ve noticed… Something in the air. It’s like a subtle tension in the air whenever he’s close. Your breath would hitch, your heart would beat faster and, most importantly, a certain feeling would ignite a fire in your core. You don’t know if he feels it too, you don’t know if he notices, but it’s there. The _sexual_ tension is thick in the air whenever you get close to him. You don’t know how it started. Probably on the first day you’ve worked with him or when he saved your life and couldn’t stop thinking about it. It doesn’t matter. All it matters is that he just saw you naked.

After getting dressed, you considered staying in the hull, avoid him for a while. But maybe that would make him feel bad about it, and you didn’t want to ruin what you had with him. It’s a good partnership, a good friendship you’ve cultivated this whole time. So you take a deep breath and climb the ladder to the cockpit before you can change your mind.

He’s sitting on the pilot’s seat, back turned to you and you take a step to approach him, but stop when you see him fumbling with something. Frowning, you watch the way the chair moves with the movements of his arm, the sound of fabric rustling echoing the quiet space.

Then, he says your name. No, he _sighs_ your name and you hear it, loud and clear; his breath hitches, altered by the modulator, and, when you finally realize what he’s doing, you bring a hand to your mouth, eyes widening as you step aside quickly so he can’t see you. You hide in the space between the door to his quarters and the one to the cockpit.

Is he…? Thinking of you…?

Embarrassment is the feeling that first comes to you, not disgust. You’re more embarrassed that you caught him masturbating than disgusted by the fact he was doing it thinking of you. You actually feel flattered that he’s thinking of you. It’s actually… Kinda hot, if you think about it.

You must’ve made a noise, because suddenly you don’t hear him anymore. Feeling your heart beating hard inside your chest, you hear his footsteps approaching you and you know you have to say something, warn him you’re here or else he’ll act on instinct. So, you try to speak as soon as he appears at the door.

“I didn’t mean to–”

A hand grabs your wrist, turning you around and slamming you on the wall behind you. Your brow bone hits the cold metal wall and you let out a grunt as one hand is pressed on the back of your head and the other is holding your arm twisted on your back. He holds you like that for a fraction of second before realizing he acted on instinct on you again; he doesn’t let go of you immediately, though, his touch lingering on your skin for a moment. It takes you a beat to notice he’s not wearing the leather gloves he always does.

“I-I didn’t mean to look–” You say again, the side of your face still against the wall.

The Mandalorian lets you go, letting out a shaky breath as he steps backward. You turn around to face him, touching your right brow and slightly wincing in pain.

“Me neither,” He finally says, looking at anywhere but you. “I’m sorry.”

You swallow and stare at him for a moment

“You’re just–” He hesitates. “I– _Fuck_ , forget it. Sorry.” He turns his back to you and walks back to the cockpit.

Then, you feel it again. The tension rising up in the air, your heart beating fast, the _fire_ inside you. You watch him sit on the pilot’s chair, his back facing you again. Suddenly, you feel your feet moving towards him. Anxiety runs through your entire body as you approach him; hands shaking, your mouth dry. You don’t know what you’re doing when you whisper behind him.

“You liked it that much?” You ask him, a slight shakiness on your voice. “Seeing me naked?”

You notice his body stiffen as he closes his hands in tight fists, his knuckles going white with the act. Taking a shaky breath, the heat in your core intensifies as you think of the things he could do to you with those hands. Shaky hands touch the space between the pauldron on his shoulder and his neck, and you feel his muscles tense up for a moment and then relax; confidence suddenly hitting you as you feel the warmth of his body radiate to your palm. Your hand travels through his chest, touching the cold metal of his chest plate, going downwards, towards where he wants you to touch him the most. Leaning forward, you whisper.

“Are you not gonna answer?”

“Y-yes.” His voice shakes and you smile at yourself. Did you just make the Mandalorian stutter? “I liked it. I– I loved it.”

Then, you finally palm his bulge over the fabric of his trousers. He had quickly shoved his cock inside his pants when heard you, so the belt was undone and the laces loosely did, making it easy for you to slip your hand inside. You don’t know why he lets you touch him so intimately like this and, to be frank, neither does he.

Din sucks in a breath when you touch him, pulling him out of his pants again. His skin is warm under yours and you realize your breath is uneven, your mouth salivating at the sight of his length, already semi-hard for you; pumping him a couple of times, you notice he’s too dry and withdraw your hand for a moment to spin the chair around, making him face you. Before he can protest, you’re kneeling between his legs and taking him in your hands again. His eyes never leave your face while you pump him a few times, your hungry eyes staring him back intensely.

Letting the saliva gather on your tongue, you give him a long lick on the shaft of his cock, base to tip, making him let out a long, loud moan. When you wrap your lips around his tip, letting your tongue swirl around it, his hand flies to hold the back of your head, guiding you to take more of him in your mouth. His fingers feel nice between the locks of your soft hair and he tugs at them lightly, testing the waters. **  
**

“Fuck,” He breathes as you start bobbing your head, increasing the speed as you pump the rest of him you can’t fit in your mouth. “Oh, f-fuck, y-you’re–” He groans, throwing his head back, leaning on the back of the chair. “You’re s-so good at this–”

You hum in agreement, the vibrations in your throat making him see stars. You take him as much as you can, thanking the Maker you don’t have a gag reflex; Din’s other hand touches your face when you give your jaw a break and start pumping him in your hand, his thumb brushing the sore skin on your brow bone, now becoming a red bruise. Looking at him with bedroom eyes, saliva dripping down your chin, wet pink lips, you give him a grin.

“You look so pretty, like this–” He gasps as you rub your thumb on the sensitive spot of the tip of his cock. You think you hear a hint of adoration in his voice as he talks. “You take me s-so well, sweetheart. It–” He lets out a breath. “It f-feels so good–”

The nickname makes your heart flutter and you want to smile, but you wrap your lips around him again instead, a groan leaving his mouth each stroke. You feel him tense up and, knowing he’s close, you hollow your cheeks, sucking him as hard as you can. Din lets out a loud moan that echoes in the cockpit as he cums inside your mouth. You don’t let anything spill, swallowing everything that comes out of him. When you pull out, a string of saliva drips down your chin and you’re quick to wipe it down, too afraid he’d find it gross.

His hand still rests on the back of your head when he moves it to your cheek, brushing a thumb on your soft skin. You look at him for a moment before putting his cock inside his trousers again and lacing them.

Din wishes he could kiss you right now, watching your lips all wet and red.

“I need some water,” You whisper, standing up and feeling your legs shake. He reaches and grabs your wrist, stopping you before you can take a step. Looking back at him, you swallow, feeling shy under his gaze for a moment.

“I’m sorry about–” He says pointing to his helmet, where his eyes would be.

“Don’t worry about it,” You shake your head, your voice still shaky from the adrenaline.

“Thank you,” He pauses. _“Meshl’a.”_

You just nod, not trusting yourself to talk, and leaves the cockpit, towards the hull.

…

You hear the shot before you feel it.

Maker, you _hate_ this planet. Since the moment you stepped out of the ship, you hated Cantonica with every fiber of your being. Starting by the rich people that gave you strange looks as you walked with the Mandalorian through the streets of the city. It wasn’t like the looks of admiration and fear everyone gave when you walked beside the Mandalorian back in Nevarro, it was more like… Disgust. Disgusted looks coming from people that showed their money through jewelry and expensive clothing and diamonds shining in the moonlight. You hate them. You hate them so much you wish you could shoot every single one of them.

The plan didn’t go well, that’s the understatement of the year. The bounty was waiting for the both of you, prepared with guards and blasters, in his hotel room. The hallway turned into a battlefield, as you and the Mandalorian try to catch him, blaster shots flying everywhere.

You’d manage to take a few of them down with the help of Din, but one of them just shot you in the shoulder. And you’re crouched on the floor, back against a wall, grabbing your left shoulder. Maker, you forgot how much a blaster shot hurts. In a matter of seconds, Din’s beside you, kneeling down to your eye level. He calls your name in a shaky breath and you shake your head.

“He’s getting away,” You choke. “Go, I’m fine.”

Din hesitates before he stands up and leaves you, running after the bounty. The silence dominates the hallway, save from the distant blast shots and screams from the people in the reception.

“Fuck,” You mumble, trying to stand. Your blaster suddenly feels heavy in your hands and it’s getting hard to breathe, the pain almost unbearable now. This is nothing, you’ve been through worse things.

You take a deep breath. And then another. And then one more. Then you start moving, your left arm numb beside you, the other holding the blaster in front of you. Your vision is getting blurry, your breath uneven, a thin layer of sweat on your forehead.

Fuck, you can’t pass out. You see black spots and everything starts getting dark as you lose your balance and lean on a wall for support. Shit, you’re going to pass out.

You manage to get to the, now empty, reception of the hotel before your knees buckle and you start falling to the floor. Before you can reach it, a pair of strong arms grabs you.

It’s the Mandalorian and he’s holding you firmly in his arms. You look at him and he looks at you for a moment and your heart skips a beat again. But before you could open your mouth to say something, a shot flies towards the both of you and before Din could react, you’re pushing him away and shooting the bounty, who’s hidden behind a counter.

The adrenaline is now rushing through your veins and the pain on your shoulder is long forgotten as you hit the prey on the shoulder, your aim impeccable as always. You hear Din calling your name, but you ignore it as you walk towards the place the man has fallen, to cuff him and drag him to his feet.

“Get _the fuck up_ ,” You grunt, taking him by the arm.

The Mandalorian looks at you, his chest swelling with pride, smiling underneath the helmet. He moves forwards to get the quarry from your grip and you let him, the pain coming back now. As you walk outside the hotel, people have gathered around, some looking curiously at you and some looking in fear. You smile to yourself as you made your way to the Razor Crest, beside him.

…

“Do we have a bacta patch?” You ask from the refresher, taking a look at your wound in the mirror. You’ve lowered your shirt and the straps of your bra off your shoulder to tend the inflicted wound. “This shit hurts like hell.”

“Yeah, just a second.” Din answers, finishing the process to freeze the quarry in carbonite. He walks to a shelf, nearby the cabinet he keeps all his weapons. Taking the medkit, he walks back to you, handing it to you and watching as you struggle to open the pack with your non-dominant hand.

Din wonders if he looks creepy, just standing there at the door, watching you struggle without offering help, but if you’re bothered with it, you don’t show. You manage to find one last bacta patch and rip off the plastic packaging with your teeth, spitting the remaining of the plastic on the sink.

“Can you help me?” You ask, shyly when you try to take the patch out of the packaging with no success. He swallows as he looks at you, letting out a shaky breath, and nods, reaching to take the patch out of your hands. You pull it away before he can touch it, though. “Take your gloves off.” He looks at you and tilts his helmet, you almost smile at the puzzled expression you imagine he has under it. “I don’t know what these things touched, they’re probably not even clean.”

Din lets out a modulated laugh, his shoulders shaking with it once as he obeys you. You give him the bacta patch, allowing him to touch your shoulder before the puts the icy patch on the wound. Slightly wincing, you suck on a breath and press your lips together.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, a soft voice echoing the small refresher.

“A little,” You lie, gritting your teeth. “It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

“Oh?” He grins under the helmet as he adjusted the patch on your skin, applying a little bit of pressure. “You’ve been shot before?”

“Countless times.” Nodding, you look at him, a small smile on your face like you’re proud of it. “Bounty hunting, right?”

Din chuckles a bit and then shakes his head, looking back at your shoulder and lingering his touch a little longer on you.

“Done,” He whispers withdrawing your hands from you. You swallow hard and suddenly feel yourself blush and look away from his helmet. Din turns his back to you and walks away for a moment, leaving you blushing and smiling to yourself before he comes back holding a fresh new shirt of yours. “Here.”

Your fingers touch the white thin fabric of the button-up shirt you bought recently; he took it from your closet, hoping you didn’t mind.

“Thank you,” You say, taking the shirt and pressing it against your chest like it’s a gift from him. He stares at you for a moment and you give him a shy smirk. “I’m… I’m going to change now…”

“Right!” He says, nodding. “I’ll… Punch the coordinates to get going.”

You watch him walk away biting down your smile and feeling your heart flutter. Swallowing down your feelings, to remove your now ruined shirt and change. You don’t bother to put on a bra, since the strap would scrape the wound, making it hurt constantly.

When you’re ready, you climb the ladder to the cockpit and silently sit in the co-pilot’s chair just in time as Din makes the ship jump into hyperspace. The jump makes you bump your shoulder on the wall beside you, and you feel stupid for choosing the left seat instead of the right. Or for just not wearing your seatbelt, like you were supposed to.

“You okay?” Din asks, turning the chair to face you when he heard you grunt behind him. You nod, touching your injured shoulder lightly.

The act makes your arm squish your breasts together and, here in the bright light of the hyperspace tunnel, he can see them through your white shirt. He’s glad for the helmet, because his mouth, as dry as the desert, is hanged open and heat crept on his cheeks as he realizes his trousers are suddenly a bit tight.

“What?” You ask when you see him staring.

“Nothing,” He replies and turns back around to the console. And then, after a pause, “does it hurt?”

“A bit. The patch is good, but I really wish I had an e-bacta shot.”

Another pregnant pause hangs in the air before he speaks again, hesitance in his voice as the words spill out of his lips.

“Do you– Do you need me to make it better?”

Your heart drops to your stomach and you think you misheard him for a moment.

“W-what?” A small whimper leaves your lips.

“Like–” He breathes, now finally looking at you. “Like you did to me?”

The mere thought of him going down on you, of touching you the way you did to him makes your cunt clench. An urge to cross your legs and squeeze them together fills you, but you hold yourself, swallowing hard. Din senses your hesitance and stands up from his seat to take a step towards you. The one step he takes is enough to close the distance between the two of you completely and your breath hitches when he approaches.

“Let me take care of you.” His voice is low and raspy and it makes your heart skip a beat. It shouldn’t, you know what he means. He means to return the favor you did him a while ago.

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s moving stealthily behind you; you feel your breath hitch and try to control yourself, a feeling starting to grow in your core. Then, a gloved hand gently brushes your cheek and you almost melt at the touch, forgetting about the pain on your shoulder. Din runs his thumb on your cheek as you close your eyes, wanting to give in, yearning for his touch.

“Take off your gloves.” Your voice is barely a whisper but he doesn’t hesitate to do it so, withdrawing his hand from you for a second.

And then he touches your cheek and his palm is soft and warm, and nothing like you expected. You sigh, leaning into his touch as his other hand brushes against your collarbone, traveling through your chest, avoiding your injured shoulder, until it finally reaches your cleavage. He stops his movements suddenly and you open your eyes to look at him. He tilts his helmet towards you, silently asking for consent. Feeling heat creep on your cheeks, you nod.

Din’s hand moves to cup one of your breasts, giving it a squeeze over your shirt. A small whimper leaves your throat and his other hand leaves your cheek, palming your inner thigh to open your legs. Swallowing, your eyes are still on his helmet as he palms your core, making you gasp and groan at the same time. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter each movement he makes, each touch, each squeeze.

He slips one of his hands under your shirt, touching your breast and immediately playing with your nipple; the other fumbles with the belt in your trousers and your try to help him, but he takes your hand puts it by your side.

“Easy,” He says in a voice that makes your core slick with wetness. A sweet, but demanding tone. “Let _me_.”

He takes his time unbuttoning your shirt to expose your tits to him. A modulated breath echoes the cockpit as he looks at you, through the visor. 

“Maker…” He breathes, looking at you like it’s the first time he sees them.

He’s behind you now, both of his hands playing with your tits as you gasp and whimper pathetically.

“You like that, _cyar’ika_?” He whispers in your ear as he pinches your nipples, sending a hush of electricity through your body. You nod, humming a high pitched agreement. “What about this?” One hand leaves your breast and touches your cunt over your trousers again. You moan, and close your eyes, bucking your hips upwards involuntarily.

“Mando,” You moan as he massages you, circling his fingers over you clothed clit. “Please, touch me.”

He obliges, finally unbuckling your belt and slipping his hand inside. When his digits make contact with your soaked folds, you swear you see stars. His finger starts circling your clit, and, oh, how he wishes to kiss your exposed neck as you moan for him.

“Like this?” He whispers as he slips a finger inside you.

“ _Fuck_ – Y-yes, just like this,” You reply and he loves how vocal you are, with words or without them. A variety of curses leave your lips and he recognizes some in different languages, and others not so much. He adds another finger, just to watch your reaction as he starts fingering you.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for days,” He says, his thumb touching your clit again and you can feel the familiar sensation creeping inside you. “Even before you–” He grunts, feeling his own pants tighten over his hard cock as he remembers your mouth wrapped around it. “Maker, you’re so tight, just like I imagined.”

He feels your walls tighten around his fingers and increases speed on his pace. You moan loudly, grabbing his wrist tightly.

“I’m gonna cum–” Your voice is unrecognizable, and you arch your back, closing your eyes tightly.

“Cum for me, _Meshl’a_ , I know you can do it.”

At these words, you find your release, as he squeezes your breast one last time. Everything starts spinning around you, your blood throbbing in your ears as you try to catch your breath. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had a orgasm that good.

Din lingers inside you for a moment, watching your reaction to his fingers until you start to calm down. He pulls out from you, starting to move away from you, but your grip on his wrist tighten as you bring him closer; pulling his hand to your mouth, you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself. You hear him breathe a curse under his helmet and he wishes he could kiss your pretty lips. You put his palm on your cheeks leaning into it for a bit.

“Thank you,” You say, looking at him. Din nods, not a word leaves his mouth.

He raises a hand, touching your face one last time, brushing his thumb on the light purple and greenish bruise on your eyebrow. He hates that he’s the cause of it, swearing he’d never act on impulse with you again. From now on, he’d be nothing but gentle with you, he promises himself.

Unless you ask him not to.

__

_Meshl’a_ \- beautiful _  
_

_Cyar’ika -_ sweetheart, darling


	4. coitus echinata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a strange forest planet, while in a job, the Mandalorian is hit by a mysterious substance. It’s up to you to decided to help him, or not.
> 
> explicit nsfw content, sex pollen, praising kink, dirty talk, this is very explicit, i’m sorry if it’s not your cup of tea. +18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first sex pollen fic, so i apologize? it is also very spicy and y’all... it was actually the first chapter i wrote for this series LMAOALSA. anyway, i hope you enjoy? i’m just very horny, i’m sorry. some disclaimers: Suuria is a planet i made up just for plot sake, it doesn’t actually exist in the star wars universe (at least i don’t think so), and also this contains heavy aspects of dub-con, but i promise you everything is consensual. please let me know what you think!! constructive criticism is always welcomed!

Suuria is a jungle planet located on the edge of the Outer Rim, known by the dense forest that covers the surface of the planet. It’s a planet completely primitive, with no dense population, no industrial centers, no advanced technology. Which is why you’re surprised that a job took you and the Mandalorian there. Suuria’s inhabitants consist of tribes of native creatures that are smart enough to protect themselves from any newcomers in their own way.

The quarry was a supposed wanted smuggler, missing for days until the track fob indicated he was at the very edge of the Outer Rim. As you and Mando walk through the dense forest, the dull beeps of the fob echoing the place, you start to regret taking this job. Sweat drips down your back from the humid and hot weather and it makes you so uncomfortable you want to scream. The tall trees cover the sun, so it’s darker than in the open, but it’s still hot as hell. How is this possible?

“Keep up,” The Mandalorian pulls you out of your thoughts, walking in front of you. “The natives know we’re here, we need to move fast.”

Sighing, you walk behind him, cutting through vegetation with your own blade and tripping in vines and roots of the trees. Suddenly, he stops walking and you bump sightly on his large figure. Mando palms the back of his neck, the little space exposed between the cloak and the helmet and pulls something out of his skin to take a look.

“Shit,” He mumbles and you frown in confusion.

“What happened?” You ask him and he turns around to face you.

“I’ve been hit with something.”

You immediately pull your blaster from your holster and stay alert, looking around the trees to find someone, to find something. The thick, dark forest makes it difficult to see with your bare eyes and you wonder if he can see it better with the helmet.

“I can’t see anyone,” You mumble slowly and look back at him.

The Mandalorian is still looking at the needle in his gloved palm as if he’s thinking. You take a look at the needle in his hand, thin and sharp, decorated with small pink feathers, only now realizing it must be laced with something, some substance, or poison. The color of the feathers is not strange to you, but you can’t remember when you’ve seen it before.

“Mando,” You call him and he tilts the helmet towards you. “Shit, this could be poison. Are you okay?”

He nods, putting his blaster on the holster again. He doesn’t look okay. He doesn’t feel okay. Stumbling backward, he starts to fall to the ground and you try to grab him but you’re too slow. He leans on a trunk tree and you swear you hear his breath shaking as he tries to calm down. Panic starts to grow in your chest as you watch him struggle, kneeling by his side. You didn’t bring a medpack and you feel stupid for it. Maybe there’s a universal antidote in the ship, but you know you’re not gonna make it there alone.

“I’m fine,” He says, trying to stand up. “I feel fine.”

You open your mouth to say something but a second needle lands in the trunk of the tree and misses you by centimeters. You don’t think twice as you turn around and shoot at the direction the needle came from, hitting someone on the top of the trees. Mando always said you have an impeccable aim and would do great as a sharpshooter. Whoever shot at you falls from the high in the distance, but it’s too far to see clearly and the dense trees make it difficult to see.

Looking back at the Mandalorian, you place a hand on his chest plate. “Hey,” You call him.

“‘M fine.” He insists, trying to get off the ground. He’s dizzy, suddenly, the air escaped from his lungs and he feels a bit sick in the stomach.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” You tell him, standing up hesitantly. “Just a second.”

He knows you have to look for more possible threats, so he nods, using the tree trunk as support to stand up. You leave him, blaster up in the air, looking for the native that shot him but when you reach the spot they had fallen, you see nothing. You look up, raising your blaster, just in case someone else is there, waiting to attack you. There’s no one.

“Shit!” You curse out loud, running back to where you left him. He’s kneeling to the ground, in all fours, head hung low, grunting and panting. You can tell he’s in pain and you start to panic even more.

“Fuck, I know what this is,” He breathes, the modulated voice cracking and you run to his side, kneeling beside him again.

“What?! What is it? Does it have a cure?!” You try not to sound alarmed, but when he’s on his knees, groaning in pain it’s hard to keep it together.

“Y-yes.” He grunts louder. “It’s recreational spice. From a– From a plant. _Coitus echinata_.”

“Coit–” You interrupted yourself when it dawns on you. “Oh, fuck.”

You know what it is, of course, you do. An illegal spice in Yavin-4, smuggled in the undergrounds of the planet by people who had low libido problems. The reason why it was illegal is that the plant is the perfect torture device. If injected in a subject’s bloodstream in an abundant amount and the side effects aren’t… _Taken_ care of, the subject would be in severe pain for hours. It’s not lethal, but it is painful to the point of exhaustion. The subject, when injected, is weak and vulnerable making the perfect prey to be killed.

“You have to leave me,” He half says, half groans, hands closed in fists as he breathes heavily. “Get back to the Crest, lock yourself in. Activate the ground security protocols.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you!” You raise your voice, panic starting to take control of you.

“You have to.”

“Listen,” You press a firm hand on his shoulder, speaking with a demanding tone. “Whoever shot you is still alive and they’re waiting for you to get weak so they can kill you. I am _not_ leaving you here alone. You’re too important to me, okay? We’re going to back to the ship and we’ll figure this thing out. _Together_.”

With that, you grab him his upper arm and hauls him to his feet, ignoring the grunts of pain that leaves his lips with every step. His body leans against yours, and you have to support both of you, but you don’t care. You’re not leaving him alone out here.

It feels like you’re walking miles before you reach the Razor Crest. The Mandalorian pants, his breath becoming audible each time and you feel your legs throb in pain, but you keep up until the ramp to the ship is down and you carry him inside. Once in the hull, you drop him on the cot you’ve been sleeping on and run to close the hatch again, immediately activating the security protocol, just in case someone might want to attack the ship while in the ground.

Looking back at Mando, you see him gripping the edges of the cot tightly as his head hangs low, the chin of his helmet touching his chest plate. You swallow hard and slowly approach him.

“Handcuff me,” He says, voice husky and low. You can hear in his voice how hard he’s trying to hold it back, you can see he’s trembling, his body shaking entirely. “Handcuff me to the wall.”

“Mando.” Your voice is trembling and you feel a sudden fear bubbling in your chest.

“Just do it!” He grips the edges tighter and lets it go, missing the way you jump at his voice. “P-please.”

Knowing that the spice hasn’t make full effect on him yet, you pull the magnetic handcuffs from your belt slowly. Your hands are so small compared to his and he watches as you take them and cuff his wrists, lifting his arms and letting them glue magnetically to the metal wall behind him. As soon as the magnets are connected, Din fights back, his boots slamming on the floor as he tries to reach for you. You jump back, a hand on the blaster in your hip holster out of instinct.

“Shit–” He grunts, hitting the back of his helmet on the wall. “S-sorry, I– It–”

“It’s okay,” You assure him but keep your distance. “Just breathe.”

Din exhales sharply, shaking his head and pulling at the restraints again, letting out a variety of curses you’ve never heard before. It’s like his body is on fire like he’s been stripped of all his armor and clothes and thrown in a pit of fire. He’s boiling, the uncomfortable feeling growing inside each second. He looks up at you, helpless and humiliated, and notices you look _good_. Maybe it’s just the spice, or his own desires, maybe it’s a mixture of both, but the way the sweat sticks on your skin making your complex glow in the dull lights of the hull, makes his cock twitch inside his trousers. Maker, he swear he can see your nipples through your shirt and there’s nothing he wants more than to grab a handful of your tits and play with your nipples until you’re a whimpering mess, begging him to fuck you–

“D-do you need me to wait in the cockpit?” Your voice is concealed with anxiety. “Until it– Wears off?”

“N-no!” He responds too fast. “No, please–”

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “I’ll wait here, then.”

His breathing gets uneven and you hear him swallow hard. His mouth is dry as he swallows again, his lips tingling as he presses them together underneath the helmet. He feels it now, the substance running in his veins, the blood rushing towards his cock. He takes a deep breath. Then another. 

“It won’t–” He swallows again. “It won’t wear out. The– _Fuck_ , the plant–” He groans again. “Maker, it’s fucking painful. It _hurts_ – It–” **  
**

“I know,” You confess and he looks at you, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. You’ve watched people being tortured with it. You saw what it did to them. “Have you used it before? On yourself, I mean.”

Din takes a moment to answer, swallowing hard, the dryness now migrating to his throat.

“Yes. Once.” His voice is a whisper, trembling in shame. “It wasn’t as strong as this but– _Yes._ ”

It takes you a moment to process it. He knew the side effects, he knew what he was going to go through. Maker, he’s used before. You expect to feel disgusted or some type of repulsion or even hate towards him, but you don’t. You know what you have to do, deep down, you’ve always known. You knew it, even when you were dragging him through the forest back to the ship. You knew it, ever since he told you what the spice was. Maybe you even wanted to do it. 

“Okay.” You nod at him. “I’m going to touch you now.”

Taking a step forward, you approach him once more. A soft breath leaves your lungs as you lean forward and touch his inner thigh. His breath hitches and he tilts the helmet to look at you.

“Don’t–” He chokes when you slowly run your hand through his thigh to cup his bulge. “You don’t have to–”

“I do.”

The Mandalorian gasps loudly when you palm his hardness, rubbing your hand on his trousers. He sighs in relief, throwing his head back and closing his eyes underneath the helmet. Your touch is like a balm for a burn, like an ointment for a bug bite. It’s water to his dry throat.

“I don’t–” He breathes, his voice calmer now that you’re touching him. “I don’t want our f-first time to be–”

Your hands freeze and he looks at you to find you staring, a light flush on your cheeks. A ghost of a smile curves your lips at the thought of him wanting to have sex with you. Your little smile disappears too soon when you feel your face warm and you tear your gaze away from him.

“I can’t watch you suffer,” You reply and fumbles with his belt, removing it and setting carefully aside. You think of all the people that you watched being tortured with the spice, remembering how they shuddered completely, how they cried, passing out just to wake up minutes later screaming in pain. “It’s too much for me.”

Your hands reach the laces of his pants and start to unlace them. They’re not shaking as you expect them to be as you pull the fabric down until the middle of his thigh and reach to touch him. Your movements are interrupted when Mando calls your name.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” He whispers. Your heart clenches and quickens its pace, you feel tears in your eyes as you answer, your heart palpitating inside your chest.

“You won’t. I promise.”

With that, you take him in your hands, kneeling between his legs again. Din sighs once more as you start pumping him, your thumb smearing the tip coated in his precum. He’s hard as a rock and you can’t lie and say you don’t feel yourself getting wet at the sight of it.

“Oh, fuck–” Din chokes out. “Put– Put your mouth on it, p-please.”

You do as he says, licking the tip of his cock before wrapping your lips around it. Your mouth salivates and you let the saliva drip down him as you slowly start to bob your head up and down.

“Shit, that feels so g-good,” He groans, pulling at the restraints again. The metal handcuffs keep him from tangling his fingers in your hair and pushing it down. Maker, how he wishes he could face fuck you just like that.

You suck him off like you did the first time. Trying to fit the best you can in your mouth, you stroke the rest of the cock that doesn’t fit, using your saliva to lubricate him. Mando buckles his hips suddenly, taking you by surprise and you let out a short cry, placing your hands on his legs.

“S-sorry–” He apologizes. “Maker, you’re s-so good– Fuck, I’ve– I’ve been thinking about it ever s-since–”

Giving your jaw a break, you lick him and run your mouth through his length, pumping him hastily as you look up and see him staring at you. His chest moving rapidly with hitched breaths as you let your spit drip down your chin, touching the tip of his cock to it and letting it drip down, coating him with more of you clear saliva.

“Since?” You encourage him to talk, licking his length, base to tip once more.

“Since you–” He exhales. “You sucked me–”

“Do you think about it at night? On your own?” You whisper to him and his cock twitches at your words. He nods, unable to speak anymore. With a frown between your brows and a pout on your lips, you shake your head. “Poor baby.” You run your mouth on his dick and you feel him tensing up already. “Having to take care of it all by yourself.” You coo at him as you kiss the tip of his dick, before taking him in again. “Next time give me a shout, will ya?”

It’s hearing those words that Din finds his release, the unburdening feeling taking control of him as he moans your name loudly, his voice echoing the hull. The sticky substance gushes in your mouth, warm and viscous as some of it drips down your chin. You take a moment to swallow it and look over at the Mandalorian, who’s resting his head on the wall, panting hard.

It won’t be enough. In a few minutes, he’ll start feeling it again, so you stand up and walk to the refresher, looking for a towel to clean your face. You needed to do laundry anyway, so you grab one of your dirty shirts you left in the laundry basket and soak a part of it with water, wiping your chin afterward.

The reflection in the small mirror leaves you surprised. You didn’t expect to be nervous about it, imagining your first time with the Mandalorian to be smoother and not– No, you _want_ this. It has to be done, for him. You can’t let him suffer, you can’t watch him in pain. For a moment, you wonder why that is. Why can’t you just leave him in the hull and climb to the cockpit and hang there for a moment?

The answer is right there, under your nose, but you refuse to accept it. The denial blinds you from accepting your own feelings for him.

A shaky breath leaves your lips as you shake the thoughts away. Not right now, you can think about it later. Right now, you’re going to have sex with the Mandalorian. For him.

_Oh, Maker..._

He’s quiet when you return to the hull, but you feel his eyes on you, the visor of his helmet tilted at you. You offer him a smile, letting him know everything is fine as you approach him again.

Starting with the hip holster, you unclasp the belt around your thigh and then the one around your hips. You set it on the bunker and then started to unbuckle your belt, ignoring Din’s protests as he calls your name.

_“Meshl’a_ , you don’t have to do this.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want– I don’t want to force you–”

There’s not an answer as you take off your boots and then your pants, along with your soaked underwear. The Mandalorian shudders at the sight, feeling the blood rushing to his cock again, the pain coming back with it. You straddle him, putting your hands on his shoulders and you almost shiver when the cold metal of the leg armor he’s wearing touches the back of your thighs. It dawns on you, then, that you two have never been this close before. Your chests touch each other as you breathe, your mouth suddenly going dry. You feel all of your anxiety escape you as you grind on his cock, making him exhale sharply.

“Do you feel it?” You ask him, grinding harder. “Do you feel how wet I am for you?”

“Fuck.” He breathes. “Yes.”

“This is how much I want you.” Your voice is whispered, but firm, as if you’re teaching him a lesson. “Do you want me?”

“ _Maker,_ yes!”

It’s the spice talking, you think to yourself and decide to ignore the feelings that bubble up in your chest.

“Do you trust me?”

Din looks at you for a moment, before answering with a serious tone, no stutter, no grunts or moans. “I trust you.”

Reaching between the two of you, you take his length and guide it to your entrance. His cock is still wet from your saliva and, with the slickness of your cunt, he slides in easily, ripping a moan from both of you. He’s thick and you take a moment to get used to him inside you, feeling him fill you completely. He’s holding back from moving, watching your reaction. Stars above, he _loves_ the face you make when he enters you, your mouth slightly open, your eyes closed, your brows slightly furrowed as you tilt your head back and mutter a curse in a different language. It makes him want to fuck you every night, not just tonight, not just because of the spice. It makes him want to take you to his bed and pleasure you for hours if it means you’ll make that face to him. You can feel his thighs shake beneath you and when you finally start riding him he lets a sigh of relief but keeps his visor trained on you.

“Fuck, Mando,” You breathe, using his shoulders as support. “You feel amazing.”

You bounce on him using your legs as he thrusts inside you, setting on a pace that’s comfortable for the both of you.

“Want–” He mumbles. “Need to–”

“What?” You ask, breathing heavily. “What do you want? Tell me.”

“Your tits, I need to– To see them, to touch–”

You don’t hesitate to pull your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra right after. Mando pulls at the restraints so hard you think he might’ve injured himself, grunting loudly, like an animal.

“Please, please–” He begs and your walls clench around him. “Let me t-touch them, please.”

“Gloves off, then.” You sigh as you reach for the cuffs, unlocking them. The moment his hands are free, he removes his gloves hastily and grips one of your breasts hard, digging his fingers in the soft flesh, earning a gasp from you. Pinching your nipple between his fingers and earning a whimper from you, your fingers digging on the fabric of his shirt. His other hand grips your hips so tightly it hurts. You’d not be surprised if you woke up with bruises on your skin the next morning. With his hands free now, he pushes you down, sinking even lower on him and slams his hips with yours; you moan loudly, it’s completely different when he takes control.

“Stars, fuck–” You moan. “Mando, you c-can let it– Let it out, _oh_ –”

A shaky breath comes out of the modulator as he shakes his head. “Gonna– Hurt you–”

You smile and look at him, beads of sweat already covering your forehead, your cheeks pink from the workout.

“I can take it,” You coo at him, as you lace your arms on the back of his neck. “I promise you.”

Then, he understands why you said he wouldn’t hurt you. It’s like something snaps inside him, suddenly. He grabs the back of your thighs and stands up from the cot, holding you as if you weight nothing. Maker, he’s so hot as he lies you down on the floor and enters you again, your eyes closing once more as your walls welcome him. He wastes no time in slamming his hips against yours hard this time. The sounds that come out of your mouth are music to his ears.

“Oh, shit–” You moan, lacing your arm around his shoulders. You wish he’d take off the helmet, Maker knows he must be boiling under the armor.

“You like that, baby?” He huffs, the modulator picking up the crack in his voice. “Fuck– You like when I fuck you like this?”

“Y-Yes,” You groan. “Fuck, I love it!”

Your first orgasm takes you by surprise making you jolt your body as the fire inside you ignites and spreads all over your lower abdomen. Your nipples touch the cold metal of his chest plate and you cry and whimper and moan, your legs trembling around his waist. Din wants to stop to check on you, but the spice in his bloodstream doesn’t let him.

“Stars, you look so pretty when you cum,” He says pulling out of you and turning you around, your stomach now touching the cold floor of the ship. “Fuck, you have no idea–” He pushes himself inside you again, ripping out a moan from your throat. “How long I’ve been waiting–”

His grip on your ass is firm for a moment before he withdraws his hand from you only to give you a slap. You feel a sharp sting on your skin, making you hiss in pain and pleasure. When he starts fucking you again, it makes you gasp and breathe hard. This position allows him to fuck you harder than before and that’s what he does, making you reach your climax not even minutes after your first one. You bite your lower lip so hard you taste blood as you squeeze around him; he feels you cumming around him and follows right after taking him by surprise this time, as he moans your name.

He collapses on top of you, the armor touching your sweaty skin sending shivers through your skin. You both stay like this for a moment, catching your breaths, and you whimper when he pulls out of you, the result of his climax dripping out of your cunt.

“Let me jus–” You sigh, moving to a sitting position. “Let me just take a breath, okay?”

“Anything– Anything for you, _Meshl’a_ ”

You look at him to find his visor staring at you. You wonder if he’s smiling under it like you are. This was not how you wanted your first time with the Mandalorian to go, but deep down you’re glad he was stung by the _Coitus echinata_ spice.

…

Your legs are sore. Your arms are sore. Your knees are sore from kneeling on the floor. Your cunt is sore. Everything hurts each movement you make. You take your time showering, cleaning every part of your body. Din insisted you went first and you didn’t put much of a fight.

It took _hours_ for the spice to wear out. He spent hours fucking you senseless and it took several tries to convince him to take off the armor. He didn’t take all of it, but at least the chest plates and the shoulder pauldrons were gone by hour three. You’re exhausted, he’s exhausted, there’s nothing you want more than just flop on the bed and sleep for days.

Your skin is wrinkled and red from the hot water as you leave the shower and wrap yourself with a towel, brushing the strands of wet hair out of your face, you realize you left your clean clothes in the hull. 

As soon as you open the door to the hull – the one he finally fixed it after catching you naked in the refresher – and step outside, Mando jumps from the cot he was sitting on. You jump with the sudden movement, putting a hand on your chest.

“How are you?” He asks, approaching you. You take a moment to answer, wondering if he was waiting for you to come out the whole time.

“Sore,” You mumble. “Everything hurts and it’ll hurt more tomorrow.”

A low breathy laugh cracks the modulator as his shoulders shake.

“I’m–”

“If you apologize one more _fucking_ time…” You interrupt him, a smile on your face. After he completely came to his sense, he kept apologizing for everything and it’s starting to annoy you. Din tilts his helmet and you wonder which expression he’s wearing underneath the beskar. You stare at each other for a moment, the chill air of the ship sending goosebumps to your skin, but you don’t care. When the Mandalorian speaks, it’s only a shy whisper that makes your heart palpitate.

“Did you mean it? When you said I was too important?”

You almost smile. The most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy and he’s here, shyly asking you if he’s important to you.

“Of course I did,” You answer, your lips curving into a small smile. “And for the record… I didn’t want our first time to be like that either.” He stares at you, not daring to move a muscle as you exhale softly, considering your next words. _Fuck it._ "But I'm glad it happened."

The Mandalorian stays still, his muscles relaxing a bit as you turn around and walk towards the cabin where you store your belongings.

Maker, he's glad too. He's so, _so_ glad. He wants to say it, he wants to tell you, but for some reason, he doesn't. **  
**

"I'm going to get dressed now," You tell him, smiling. "You should shower, you must be hot under all that."

Din nods and enters the refresher, closing the door behind him. You sigh, closing your eyes and cringing at yourself.

"Stupid,” You mumble to yourself, cringing.

It’s only when your rest your head on your pilot that you think of the consequences of your little confession. Would he still be okay with you around? He hasn’t shown any signs of regret or aversion towards you yet. You know he has a reputation that precedes him wherever he goes. Maybe he’ll want you to keep it secret, maybe he’ll want you gone by the next cycle. Yeah, maybe he'll do that. He can't afford to have a partner that has feelings for him, right?

Wait, _do_ you have feelings for him?

He has been nothing but gentle with you, ever since he slammed you on the wall that one time you caught him masturbating. Ever since then, it has always been lingering touches, a tilt of the helmet, or a light laugh at your bad jokes. You smile at yourself at the memories, feeling your heart flutter.

Fuck, you _do_ have feelings for the Mandalorian.

…

Your words echo in Din’s mind as he lets the cold water run through his hot skin. Leaning a hand on the metal wall of the shower box; the sigh that comes out of his lips is low. He really needed a cold shower after hours of…

Maker. It was so good. He felt so good to be inside you. He can’t even begin to describe the sensation. Of course it was different because of the spice, he keeps reminding himself of that, but something inside him just changed. He wanted to say it back, he wants to agree with you, to tell you he was also glad it happened, but…

He knows that things are never going to be the same after this. Things _haven’t_ been the same ever since you dropped on your knees and sucked his dick as your life depended on it, several weeks ago. You and him make a great team, professionally speaking, people fear you as much as they fear him. Would something more than that ruin the business?

Din decided to set all these thoughts aside and think about how good you are to him. Despite everything, you _did_ him a favor but not letting him suffer for hours and hours. But was it just a favor? Would you let him fuck you again someday, without the spice? He exhales, shaking the thoughts away.

When he finally leaves the refresher, stripped of all his armor, except for the helmet, you’re already asleep on your cot. The same cot you rode him, hours ago. He watches your back turned to him as you face the metal wall. Your breathing is the only sound he hears and he swears he could listen to it all night. He wants to invite you to his bed, to make you more comfortable, but you look so deep in your slumber that he wouldn’t dare to interrupt it.

The thought makes him wonder. He never invites anyone to sleep on his bed. He never sleeps with people, he just fucks them and leaves. But, somehow, he wants to lie down with you and feel you fall asleep in his chest.

Here he is, the most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy, and he wants to fall asleep with you.

You shiver on your sleep and Din’s muscles stiffen before he walks towards the bunker, where he takes a soft blanket from. He lets the fabric cover you as he sets it down; you gasp lightly, eyes opening slowly, trying to wake up from your well deserved slumber.

“It’s okay, _cyar’ika,_ ” He says, softly. “Go back to sleep.”

He tucks you in, pulling the blanket to your chin and watching as you snuggled comfortably, a sigh escaping your lips; he touches your cheek, brushing a thumb on your skin and you smile, half asleep.

“Thanks,” You whisper, sticking your hand out of the blanket to hold his palm against your face. Din feels his chest tighten with the sight.

Yeah, he knows that things aren’t going to be the same after tonight. He knows his relationship with you will change.

But maybe it will change for the better.

__

_Meshl’a -_ beautiful

_cyar’ika -_ sweetheart, darling


	5. cold, moonlit streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While taking some days off in Nevarro, you get jealous of the Mandalorian and decide to leave. But what he does right after, surprises you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short, smutty, sweet thing i decided to add to the series. please let me know what you think! Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, dirty talk +18

She’s flirting with him again. You can see it from your seat at the bar. Legs crossed, elbows leaned on the table, squishing those tits together so he can see them. Exhaling softly, you look away when her foot starts rubbing his calf, under the table. 

It’s been a slow couple of days for bounty hunting, so you and Mando were stationed in Nevarro for a while. There’s not much to do in this dump of a planet, so you mostly hang out in the cantina, drinking and chatting with fellow hunters. You and Mando were sitting on a booth together when you decided to hang around the bar for a minute. Big mistake. A pretty blue alien sat on your spot as soon as you left it and started talking to him.

You had to admit the girl was pretty. But something inside, an uncomfortable feeling, started to grow. It’s like you’re almost angry he’s letting her touch him and seduce him. How dare she? He’s your–

You’re _not_ jealous, no you refuse to believe that. He’s your nothing. Just your partner. Your friend. You’re not with him just because he was shot with a spice that made him incredibly horny, leaving you with no choice but to let him fuck you to avoid severe pain.

How long was that? Days, weeks ago? You don’t know. All you know is that you can’t stop thinking about it. Sometimes, at night, you try to relive the feeling with your own hands, but it’s not the same. Of course, it’s not.

Surprisingly, ever since that night, he’s been acting pretty normal around you. So nothing’s changed. Except… No, you _don’t_ have feelings for him and you’re _not_ jealous. You continue to believe that as you take another look at him to see him staring right at you. Shivering, you look away quickly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. It’s fine, he’s your friend. A friend who fucked the life out of you once, but still. A friend. A partner in bounty hunting. 

Would it be too rude if you left now?

Either way, you gulp down your drink and leave the credits on the bar, hopping out of the stool to leave. The cold air from the night makes you shiver as you leave the cantina, crossing your arms and making your way back to the ship.

You get a fair amount of distance from the place when you hear someone call your name. It’s him, you know it even before turning around to face him. When you do, he’s standing there, in front of you, hands closed in fists.

“Why’d you leave?” He asks.

“You seemed busy.” You shiver again as a cold wind blows your hair back. “That girl was… Pretty.”

“Pretty fucking annoying, that she was.”

A laugh escapes your lips as you raise your eyebrows in surprise, trying not to smile. Pressing your lips together, you hug yourself even tighter hoping to get warm. Mando notices it and moves to detach his cloak from his armor, wrapping it around you. The act takes you by surprise, but you gladly accept it when the thick fabric warms you up almost immediately. He doesn’t say a word as he starts walking back to the ship beside you.

“You were jealous.” It’s an affirmation, not a question and it almost makes you stop your tracks. You feel your stomach drop and take a deep breath before answering. 

“What makes you think that?” You laugh, trying to act cool.

“You kept looking back at us.”

A moment of silence follows as you both walk through the empty, dark streets of the town. It’s late enough that the windows are closed, the lights were off and the only people outside are you and him.

“She took my seat,” You answer eventually. “And she kept… Rubbing that disgusting foot on you.”

He lets out a light laugh, his shoulders shaking with it. “So you _were_ jealous.”

You feel a blush creep on your cheeks as you look away. “I–” You hesitate. “I wasn’t.”

“Right.” His sarcastic tone made you blush even harder.

“I mean it,” You insist, shrugging. “You fuck who you want to fuck. I don’t care.”

There’s a silent pause as you keep walking and Mando is choosing his words carefully. He knows you’re lying. He knows you care, it’s written all over your face. When he speaks again, his heart beats strongly inside his chest.

“What if I want to fuck _you_?”

Your feet stop moving, coming to a stop. Maybe you heard him wrong, but did he just say he wants to fuck you? Suddenly, you feel your heart in your throat, your mouth dry and your heart beating faster than ever. The Mandalorian takes a couple of steps before stopping and looking back at you. The simple vision of him standing in the cold, moonlit streets, makes your core burn. Perhaps it’s the effect he has on you. Perhaps, it’s the statement he just made. It doesn’t matter.

“I would let you.” Your mouth is quicker than your mind, and suddenly he’s approaching you again; you try to control your breathing but it’s impossible when the larger shadow hovers over you.

“What if I want to fuck you now?” He asks, a gloved hand touching your cheek.

Here? In the streets, out in the open? In the cold air of this disgusting city?

“I would let you,” You repeat, your breath hitching with the thought.

Next thing you know, he’s dragging you to a dark alley and pressing your chest against a wall. Mando lifts the cloak that’s in the way and grabs your ass firmly, earning a grunt from you as your face is pressed on a cold stone wall. You feel his hand move down to the middle of your cheeks, cupping your core hungrily. A moan escapes your lips as he starts massaging your cunt over your trousers. It might have been a little too loud and if people were passing through, they’d hear the both of you, but, right now, you don’t give a shit. It’s not like you’ve never done this before, you’ve had your adventures in public once or twice, but the idea of being seen with _him_ makes you wet. Maybe you want everyone to know the Mandalorian is fucking you instead of that blue alien. So you moan louder.

“Fuck, Mando.” You breathe, closing your eyes as you reach down to undo your belt. He helps, pulling your pants down until your ass is exposed to the cold air. “G-gloves.” You tell him before he can touch you.

In a second, the gloves are gone and his hands are touching your skin, digging his nails in your soft flesh. Then, his fingers find their way to your cunt, already wet for him. He rubs your clit and you moan loudly, your voice echoing in the alley.

“ _Shh._ ” He puts a hand over your mouth as he inserts a finger inside you. You whimper and close your eyes, leaning your forehead against the stone wall. “Fuck, you’re so warm.” His voice is trembling with desire as he adds another finger starts pumping them inside you.

You open your mouth to suck on his fingers, letting out a quiet breath. “Mando, p-please.”

The cloak suddenly feels too heavy and hot on your shoulders and you shrug to get comfortable with it but it ends falling to the ground.

“S-shit,” You grunt. “The cloak–”

“Leave it,” He says and then you feel it.

You barely register his cock before he slides it inside you. He grunts, leaving you no time to adjust to him and starting moving right away. Whimpering, grunting, and moaning, you try your best to keep it down, but it just feels so good to have him inside you that you want make every sound possible to everyone to hear, to everyone to know the Mandalorian is fucking you again. You can hear his breath through the modulator, his helmet pressed against your shoulder, a hand on your ass, the other on your shoulder.

“F-fuck,” He breathes, slamming hard in you and groaning your name. “I missed– I missed t-this.”

“You mean my pussy?” You ask and he tightens his grip on your ass. “You missed this pussy?”

“Maker, _yes_!”

“Then show me.”

Mando wraps an arm around your waist and the other across your chest, speeding this pace and slamming hips on your ass harder than before. You grab his arm and guides his hand to your clit, wanting him to touch you there again. He immediately starts circling the bundle of nerves and you start to see stars with your orgasm coming, a quiet moan leaving your lips.

“Do you like it, baby?” Mando whispers in your ear, the vocoder on his helmet picking up the labored breaths he lets out.

“Mando,” You purr, throwing you head back and leaning on his shoulder. “Fuck– I love it.”

He thrusts inside you hard and you suddenly feel the fire in your lower stomach, your toes curling inside your shoes as you try to grab the wall for support. The orgasm hits you hard and your knees almost give in, if it weren’t for the strong pair of arms holding you. Din feels your walls squeezing him and follows right after, cumming just seconds after you. Both of your breaths are uneven, a thin layer of sweat is on both of your skins and he holds you like this for a moment before he pulls you to his chest. If it weren’t for the armor, you’d be feeling his quick heartbeats slamming in his chest. His bare hand suddenly cups your cheeks and you lean into his touch.

Swallowing hard, you allow yourself to enjoy his embrace as the pace of your heartbeats is normal again and your breaths aren’t uneven anymore. The cold wind that hits you makes you shiver again, the sweat on your skin making it colder. It surprises you how gentle he is, as Din pulls out of you slowly, watching your reaction to his absence. Sighing, you smile to yourself, feeling the slick substance run down your inner thighs. You don’t mind when he gently pulls your trousers up again, helping you buckle your belt. It’s an intimate act, something you’ve never experienced before, and it makes you blush for a moment. To think the dangerous bounty hunter that is your partner can be so sweet and gentle with you makes your heart skip a beat as you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“You okay?” He asks.

You nod, then shrug, turning around to face him. “Kinda cold, but… I’m okay.”

He takes the cloak from the ground and shakes it before wrapping around you, rubbing your upper arms to make sure you’re warm.

Why is he so gentle with you? He’s the most dangerous and reckless bounty hunter in the galaxy and he’s making sure you’re warm after fucking you in against a wall in an alley.

“Thanks,” You whisper.

The Mandalorian nods and you smile at him as you watch him putting his gloves back on again. He gently pushes you out of the alley, in front of him.

“Let’s get back to the ship,” He mumbles and your heart flutters. “It’s warmer there.”

You both walk in a comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of your boots crunching the dirt beneath you echoing in the dark streets. Once you reach the ship, you hug yourself with his cloak even tighter, not wanting to let go of the thick fabric around you. It smells like him, you realize. It’s a smell you can’t describe, it’s nothing specific, but it reminds you of him.

“I was jealous.” Your confession takes him by surprise as he lowers the ramp to the ship. He turns his head to look at you and you just shrug.

Din watches you as you enter the ship, following right after you.

“Yeah,” He says, making you look at him. “I know.”

A laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head.

“Shut up.”


	6. affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get sick and Din takes care of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably one of my faves.

It started with a headache. It was light at first, nothing a couple of pain pills couldn’t solve. The back and shoulder pain started a few days later and you thought it was weird, but you were okay. Maybe you were sleeping in a weird position or something, but it was fine. But then, your nose started running and your throat was suddenly sore. You sneezed every few minutes and were suddenly too tired to do everything.

So, you’re not okay. It isn’t until the Mandalorian watches you get ready to bed right after you both collected a bounty, that he notices something is wrong. You, going to sleep in the middle of the day when you always stay up late reading your datapad, is not a good sign.

“Are you okay?” He asks once he’s done freezing the bounty in carbonite.

“Yeah.” Your voice is different. Tired, hoarse. “I’m just tired. Don’t worry about me.”

He approaches you as you remove your boots and pull the blanket over yourself. You watch as he kneels down in front of you, laying a hand on your thigh. “Are you sure,  _ cyar’ika _ ?”

A smile curves your lips as you hear concern plastered on his voice and you nod, putting your hand on top of his. “Don’t worry about me. I just need a nap.”

Mando stares at you for a moment until he nods once and stands. You look up at him as he lets go of your hand and feel a warm feeling inside your chest. He’s such a softie.

“I’ll get the ship started.” He announces and takes a look at you one more time. Laying your head on the soft pillow of the cot, you sigh as he walks away. And you’re out even before the ship enters hyperspace.

When you wake up, you feel his bare hands on your face. He’s saying something, but you can’t make it, the sleep still over your mind. You whimper as he touches something on your forehead and you slowly reach for him, but he waves your hands away.

“You’re burning up,” He tells you as you open your eyes to look at him. He’s pulling the blanket off you and you don’t realize how sweaty you are until the cold air of the hull hits your skin. Shivering, you reach for the blankets again, but he doesn’t let you. “No. You’re too hot.”

A laugh leaves your lips as you look at him with lazy eyes. “Thanks.”

Mando sighs deeply, shaking his head. “No, darling, you’re sick. You’re burning up with fever. Can you sit?”

“I’m not sick.” You sit up with a certain difficulty. Your body hurts even more now and your head is about to explode. “I’m just tired.”

His hand touches your face gently, just barely grazing his thumb on your cheek. Closing your eyes, you lean on his touch feeling the comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“I need you to walk with me to the cockpit, okay?” His voice is so soft and you love how it sounds. You love how he treats you, how he talks to you, Maker, you love–

It takes a while. You’re still sleepy, exhaustion in every bone of your body, your muscles hurt and your head throbs like crazy. While climbing the ladder, your leg falters and you almost slip to the floor, but the Mandalorian holds you quickly, putting his hands on both of your sides. You giggle when you look down at him and see him looking up at you.

“You okay?” He asks, but you ignore his question.

“Do you like the view?”

He half sighs, half laughs and you snicker, resuming your efforts to climb the ladder. “Wow, did I just make the big bad Mandalorian laugh?”

He helps you reach the top without saying a word and, when you turn to enter the cockpit, he puts his hand on your upper arms and turns you around, leading you to the other way. The way to his quarters. Before you can protest, the doors hiss open and you look at the room. It’s not huge, but it’s not small either. A bed is perfectly made, with the sheets tucked in under the mattress, a small nightstand is beside it, with a few things on it – a datapad, a canteen of water, and a small lamp.

“Mando, I can’t–” You start, but he gently pushes you inside the room. Guiding you to the bed, he makes you sit on it.

“You can. You will,” He says as you look up at him. Then, his tone softens as he starts untucking the sheets. “Please.”

When you finally comply, you rest on the bed, sighing when you feel the softness of the mattress on your sore muscles.

"This is so soft," You moan, burying your face on the pillow. Mando pulls the blanket to cover you and you gladly accept.

"I'm going to get you some water," He says. "Rest."

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes with a small smile on your face. You fall asleep before he comes back.

…

It feels like you've slept for five minutes before he returned to you. Gentle fingers brush the strands of hair from your face and you hear a voice calling your name. Groaning, you feel like you rested nothing. When you open your eyes, you see the helmet tilted, the visor fixated at you. He’s crouched next to the bed, his elbows leaned on the soft mattress.

"Can you sit again, sweetheart?" The Mandalorian asks, grazing his knuckles on your cheek. You nod, accepting his help when he holds your elbow to guide you up. Then, he reaches for the nightstand and takes a wooden bowl. “Careful.” He hands it to you and you take the bowl, feeling it warm up your hands. It smells like chicken and seasoning. “It’s hot.”

“What about the water?” Your voice is filled with sleep all you look at the bowl, confused.

“Do you want water?”

“No,” You grumble. “You said you were gonna bring water.”

He stares at you in silence for a moment.

“I did. Six hours ago, before we landed in Nevarro.” His amused tone reaches your eyes. “I even gave you some medicine.”

“Oh.” You huff, shaking your head. “Am I that sick? I feel like I haven’t rested at all.”

The Mandalorian laughs softly and watches attentively as you take a sip of the broth he gave to you. A particular taste invades your tastebuds, the warmth of the liquid settling comfortably in your stomach when you swallow.

“Mm,” You hum in contentment, drinking more. “What is this?”

“Soup,” He answers simply, still looking at you.

“It’s good.” You take another sip. “Did you make it?”

A pause. And then, quietly. “Yes.”

A wide smile spreads across your features as you look at him. Your heart warms at the thought of him preparing food for you. He’s so adorable, worrying about you, making you feel okay, taking care of you.

“Can you pass me the water?” You ask and he reaches for the canteen on the nightstand and hands it to you. As you take it, your fingers brush together and you blush, the contact sending a wave of electricity through your body. A good kind.

It’s ridiculous, you’ve slept with this man multiple times. You’ve felt his hands all over your body, you’ve felt him  _ inside _ you, the touch of his hand is not new to you. Yet, you feel different this time. It’s like it’s the first time you’re touching him, like that rush of adrenaline when your skin came to contact with his for the first time.

To shove these thoughts away, you chug your water and hand the canteen and the pot, both empty, to him. He takes it and stands up as you lay back down again.

“Mando.” You call before you can think. “Stay with me?”

The Mandalorian freezes in place and feels his own heart skip a beat. You’re asking him to lay down with you in the same bed? It makes his stomach bubble and his chest swell with affection. There’s nothing more he wants than to be with you.

“Please,” You close your eyes, sighing. “I don’t want to be alone.”

It takes a moment for him to move. Setting the empty bowl on the nightstand, he stops and looks at you, eyes closed, hugging the blanket as close to you as possible. And then, he starts removing his armor. It’s strange at first, stripping the metal plates in front of you, even though you’re not watching him. It’s strange. He’d never removed the armor, not even for sex. Must be why he feels so naked. A good feeling sets in his stomach as he sits down on the edge of the bed and removes his boots too. It’s like an act of intimacy, one it can only be done in front of a lover.

“Scoot over,” He mumbles and you finally open your eyes to see him stripped of all armor, except for the helmet. Rolling over to your back, you make space for him as he pulls the blankets and slides under them lying beside you.

The ceiling of the quarters looks very interesting, now that sleep has completely left you, as you feel the warmth of his body next to you. Your shoulders touch, but barely. He’s keeping his distance, and you want to ask him to hold you, but you’re not sure if he’s comfortable with it. Now you want to tell him it’s okay, he can leave if he doesn’t like it but you can’t because he took off all of his armor, just to lay down with you and he’d have to put it all back again–

“Come here.” His voice interrupts your thoughts as he opens his arm to you.

“Huh?” It’s the only sound that leaves your lips.

“Just–” He hesitates. “Just lean on me.”

It takes a second for you to realize what he’s saying and then, you’re laying your head on his chest, pressing your bodies together. His arm hugs you, pressing you closer to him. You hug his torso and smile a bit. He’s so warm and soft without the armor. You feel his chest rise and fall with each breath he takes, listening to the beats of his heart. It’s comforting. You feel safe.

“You’re so soft,” You mumble on his chest, closing your eyes. The smell of freshly washed laundry invades your nostrils as you inhale. “On the outside and on the inside.”

“What do you mean?” He’s tracing circles with his thumb on your shoulder now. You try not to concentrate on the sensation it gives you.

“You act like you’re all tough.” Your voice now dragging, the sleep coming back for you. “But on the inside you’re… Soft. You may be the big bad Mandalorian, but I know you’re soft as a marshmallow.”

He stays silent, considering his next words. When he doesn’t speak, you do, rubbing your foot on his calf.

“You always take care of me. I like that.”

“You do?” He asks, curious.

“Yeah.” You smile in the dark.

“What else do you like?” His voice is just a whisper.

Humming, you take a moment to think. “When you call me sweetheart. And darling.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And when you touch my cheek and rub your thumb on my skin.”

Mando raises his arm and touches your cheek with his free hand, gently brushing his thumb on your skin. “Like this?”

You laugh softly, smiling under his touch. “Yes, exactly like this.” Your voice is reduced to a whisper, sighing softly. “Thanks, Mando.”

The silence that follows is excruciating. He wants you to keep talking, but he wants you to rest too. Your voice is like music to him, it’s comforting, it’s pleasant to hear. He can feel you relaxing against him and he keeps his small ministrations on your cheek and, only when he’s sure you’re asleep, he whispers, so softly.

“It’s Din.”

But you’re not asleep. And you ‘hm?’ him so quickly that he starts feeling his heart speed up and his muscles tense. Well, no going back now.

“M-my name.” He stutters. “Is Din Djarin.”

You slowly open your eyes but don’t move. You consider pretending you’re sleeping but that wouldn’t be fair to him. The man is giving you his name, a thing he probably didn’t tell anyone besides his Mandalorian comrades. You can’t just pretend you didn’t hear it.

“Din Djarin.” You repeat, rolling the name off your tongue naturally. Din swears he wants you to repeat it for him to listen forever. “Makes sense.”

A beat of silence.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Sounds like a warrior’s name.” You explain. “It suits you.”

Din smiles underneath the helmet, hugging you even closer.

“A  _ verd _ .” You mumble, relaxing your muscles on him again. You don’t notice, but he stops his hand from brushing your cheek.

“ _ Verd _ ?” He asks, frowning deeply.

“It’s Mando’a for warrior,” You whisper, between sleep and consciousness. “You should know that. It’s your language.”

“I know what–” He huffs. “I know what it means, I just– How do  _ you _ know that?”

The only sound he hears is your heavy breathing on his chest, but his heart is beating so fast with the new information you gave him that he gently shakes you, calling your name twice before you respond.

“Hm?”

“How do you know the meaning of  _ verd _ ?” He asks, tightening his grip on you.

“Uh,” You mumble. “My– My grandma...”

He waits for you to continue speaking, but you don’t. You’re already out cold and he doesn’t want to wake you again. But he sure knows which conversation he’ll have with you when you do.

…

When Din wakes up, you’re nowhere to be seen. Apparently, he needed some rest too, so he slept beside you, holding you in a tight embrace. He sits on the bed, stretches, and sighs. Reaching the cockpit he notices it’s night outside, realizing he slept more than he should have, but he’ll be damned it was the best sleep he had in years.

He finds you making your bed in the hull when he goes down. You have an extra sweater on, a simple black knitted sweater, and your hair is up on some sort of half-bun. You’ve changed your pants, opting for sweats and he loves it. He’s never seen you so casual before, not even when you slept. Your back is turned to him and when he takes a step towards you, his feet echo in the metal floor of the ship and you turn your head quickly to face him.

“Stars,” You mumble. “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” He tells you and you shake your head, waving a hand at him. “What are you doing down here?”

“Oh, I needed to pee.” You resume your task, laying the blankets flat on the cot. “Then, I noticed I left a mess down here.”

“Are you feeling better?” He’s closer now and you can almost feel the warmth of his body radiate to yours. He’s still stripped of armor, dressed in only a black sweatshirt and trousers. You nod, biting your bottom lip as you look up at him. “How much better?” His voice is gentle as he touches your forehead to feel your temperature.

“I’d say about… Ninety percent better. I still can’t breathe through my nose.” You’re not burning up with fever anymore, which is good, but just to be sure, he reaches for the medpack and tells you to sit down.

Din sits on the cot beside you and touches a device to your forehead, measuring your temperature. He looks at it when it beeps and nods. The soup he gave you was like an instant medicine and it cured you almost a hundred percent in a few hours. Setting the medpack down, he returns his gaze to you, not saying a word. You smile shyly under his gaze, but don’t look away.

“Do you–” He clears his throat, hesitating. “Do you remember what I told you right before you fell asleep?”

Your eyes soften and you nod. “You told me your name.”

Din nods and the comfortable silence that hangs in the air is soothing and calming. It’s like just being in his presence makes you feel better.

“How do you know Mando’a?” He breaks the silence, voice uncertain but soft. You look surprised at him, slightly furrowing your brows until you recall the words you’ve exchanged with him in your half wake state.

“I don’t know Mando’a.” You laugh softly. “Just a few words. My grandmother taught me some.”

He smiles under the helmet. “Which ones?”

Scrunching your face as you try to remember, you sink your teeth on your bottom lip, looking away from him. He almost lets a laugh, thinking you look so cute when you’re concentrated.

“ _Shev’la_ ,” You say smiling. “ _Ba’buir._ Uh… _Or'trikar, gedeteyar…_ Am I saying it right?” You smile at him and he nods. “Oh! _Di'kut_!”

Din barks a laugh and you do the same shaking your head.

“What else?” You mumble to yourself. “ _ Aliit _ and…  _ Mhi. K’uur _ .” You pause as you soften your look, a small smile on your lips, your eyes set on the floor, but your expression is tender. “ _ Meshl’a. _ ” Din tenses, his smile fading away as he looks at you, your eyes still on the floor, and a light pink shade on your cheeks. “And  _ cyar’ika _ .”

He huffs softly and you finally look at him with warm eyes and a shy smile on your face.

“You knew that, huh?” His voice is nervous like he’s a little boy that got caught with his hand on the cookie jar before dinner time. You nod as he laughs nervously, closing his hands in fists on his lap and then, sigh. “Why didn’t you say something?”

The smile fades away from your lips as you press them together, your hand seeks his and he lets you take it, gladly holding your back.

“Because you’d stop saying it if I did.” Your voice is just a whisper, shy, and small. The confession makes his heart warm and his stomach bubble with a strange feeling. For the first time, he starts to wonder if the feelings he has for you are deeper than just attraction.

Din touches your cheek with his free hand you lean on his touch, closing your eyes.

“Din…” You call his name, smiling. His breath hitches. It’s sweet coming from your lips again, and it sounds different now that you’re not laced with sleep.

“Say it again.” He breathes and you open your eyes to look at him.

“Din.” You repeat, with a playful smile.

_ I think I’m in love with you _ .

The words almost leave his lips, venturing in his mind for a while and he bites his bottom lip to keep himself from saying them. His heart swells with emotion, his stomach bubbles up and he can finally say…

He’s happy with you. He doesn’t want anybody else.

The urge to kiss you comes to him all of a sudden and he has to physically contain himself, by standing up. You look at him confused, tilting your head and frowning slightly.

“Are you hungry?” He asks casually, clearing his throat. You shake your head, standing too. “Then, you should rest.”

“Din, I’m well-rested.” You laugh softly. “I’ve slept for hours, I don’t think I need more sleep.”

A silent pause.

“I insist,” He says, softly. “At least until you’re fully cured. You can use my quarters again.”

Giving him a shy smile, you look away for a moment, a light pink shade coloring your cheeks. “Will you lay down with me again?”

He stares at you and, for a second, you start wondering if you’ve said something you shouldn’t. And then he speaks, nodding once.

“If you want me to.”

“Do you–” You hesitate this time. “Do _ you _ want to?”

“Yes,” He answers, almost immediately. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes.” You smile at him.

You both stare at each other in silence for a moment. As you follow him to his quarters, your heart swells with a too familiar feeling, and, for the first time, you let it overflood you. For the first time, you’re not afraid. For the first time, your guard is not up, the walls are down and you’re happy.

Your grandmother was right. Mandalorians do make the best lovers. At least, Din is the best.

__

_ aliit = family _

_ ba'buir = grandmother _

_ cyar'ika = sweetheart _

_ di'kut = idiot _

_ gedeteyar = be thankful _

_ K'uur = hush, be quiet _

_ mesh’la = beautiful _

_ mhi = we _

_ or'trikar = grief _

_ shev'la = silen _ t


End file.
